


[Discontinued] The Things Left [AU]

by pinto_pinta



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, How Do I Tag, No shipping, not me prejecting myself into a character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 52,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27539506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinto_pinta/pseuds/pinto_pinta
Summary: This is an unfinished story!*Schlatt sends Fundy on a mission.His return is welcomed by the passage of time.•••••••This is Fundy-centered, but everyone will be involved one way or another! It has a plot, I swear. It's very subtly hinted, and slow to develop :'>Also, to add, it's an alternative universe! The 'main universe' (the lives, vids/vods, etc) will be referenced. Also, the plot is in-game with irl references too!Additionally, some moments may be interpreted as ships, but they are not necessarily ships! Just a heads up because I feel that it's necessary to say
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Everyone
Comments: 95
Kudos: 146





	1. Abandoned

**Author's Note:**

> After debating with myself, this is my first work posted about the Dream SMP, so I don't even know what to expect. I didn't want to post it, but I guess it feels like I'm running out of time...
> 
> It's mainly about Fundy and his relationship with others, because of reasons that should become obvious as the chapters go. 
> 
> In addition, length will be first thing in every chapter since it'll vary a lot. So, heads up for that!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 1,385 «

His return was welcomed by craters on the path. With the wars and the people involved, it had been long since he heard complete silence; and suddenly the silence was too loud. He walked through the familiar path, having made the walk a million times, his eyes imagined the fixed path and decorative walls. There was no single point to focus on, and every block told a story. 

The fences, makeshift farms that were once full of life, were frail under his fingertips and splinters threatened to attach. It was a funny place, one that he was not involved in at all yet it was a comforting place. He looked up, the communal area standing tall in front of him. Again, not a place he took part in constructing. But there were shadows and echoes of good times, scattered in every corner and broken in every conflict. The markings of the crafting tables were almost gone, each step erasing it bit by bit. The lines were rough, his fingers picking up dust as he traced one of the million tracks. There was the faint sound of laughter, moments that were guarded with keys deep inside him. He shook the dust from his knees, the shadows scattering out the doors as they laughed away. 

He always thought that the castle was imposing, with its size and coldness yet welcoming aura. Now, there it stood so lonely like the ones living inside it were before. The stairs to it were unkempt, forgotten by care and taken over by nature like the moss growing on the walls. Every step brought another million ones, his body having visited aimlessly so many times. The entrance, never once blocked, remained, now even bigger and unpolished as if the door had been ripped away from it. Dampness ushered away, shattered glass on the floor unwelcomed, yet his body didn't. He turned, catching the fleeting sight of a chase, smiling as the memory circled around his mind. 

The throne, pride of the owner, was forgotten too. The gold was bent with chunks missing. What was once a glorious seat for someone cursed with greatness and opportunism, was now a seat for time and a sour sight. He traced the gold, his fingertips going over the bumps and cuts, ghosts of perfection tingled. He sat, his arms rested and his hands holding tight. Any moment now the owner would come, they would exchange a look then they would argue about the throne; he could hear the steps and hear the voice calling before even seeing the face, he wasn't scared. And it got louder, until the last corner where he would see. But there was nothing to come, no one to claim and no one to argue. His eyes shifted to the fountain room, directly facing the throne, dried out; the sun had been unforgiving. 

There was nothing else to see, the left side had collapsed blocking the way up. He didn't care much for it, the throne was the only thing that mattered and he had hoped that it would bring company. He made his way back, the pranks and events that were held there, he couldn't think of it more than he already did. 

Stories were written everywhere, waiting for someone to tell them all. He didn't have the time to, nor the desire to do so either. The duel, the pet's war, and everything in between and after. He knew it all too well, but they were all a mess in his head. There was one place, one that he used to call home that needed a visit. 

Its borders had always been unbalanced, uncertain and safe. The walls grew slowly around, it had been a safe place for anyone who wanted to emancipate. To think that it's builder would leave to greatness beyond the walls, it was bitter. The times, days and nights spent together, singing and playing. The fire, the camp and the van. He could see it all, clear as the sound of explosions breaking their paradise. Instinctively he ducked for cover from the fleeting ghosts, falling into the path to their doom from the betrayer. He made his way down, his hand feeling the stone walls leading to the trap. The chests at the end remained empty. A wall opened, his foot having pressed the button on the floor. He flinched, the screams echoing again and again against the tiny room. It suffocated him. 

Back in glory, he heard the joyful voices celebrating a short-lived victory until elections. As he'd seen the walls be built up, he saw them being teared down to nothing. No more protection, no more paradise. His hands were fists by his side, still feeling the pickaxe sending shocks through his body as he teared down the walls. To please a tyrant, to keep himself safe. 

Outside, the tower he had shrunk once to be rebuilt again with stronger materials still stood. He blinked, mesmerized by it as a chuckle escaped his lips; his prank had been good. Segments and fragments gone, littered on the base as moss grew too. Like the castle, it has been left abandoned for nature to reclaim. Oddly enough, everything came back to mother nature. 

Admitely, it was kinda nostalgic going around the desolated place. It was quiet, too quiet for his liking. His steps were heavy, his soles hitting the wood planks like the dripping water falling into the puddles. There were many things that needed fixing, the blown-up crates were the most common. There was one more place to go, probably abandoned like the rest of everything. He rubbed the corner of his eyes, not because he wanted to cry, not at all. No doubt something was wrong, but it had only been two days. 

He saw the orange hardened clay before the obsidian arrow, choosing to admire it later. The button to his not so hidden was rusty and chipped, when he pressed it the action was broken. He slid in, pulling at his jacket caught on the blocks. Nothing’s changed since he left it, except for the new puddles and cobwebs decorating his place. It was almost reminiscent of a prank, much to his depressed mood. His chests were emptied, robbed of things he didn’t, but should have, remember. Everything left behind collected dust. On his way to the door, his makeshift river was dried and the flowers were dead. 

The new base wasn’t very changed either, except for the moss and vines growing. He crouched and stepped into mud, looking down to see all the ice had melted away. He made a face, walking around it to go inside. His pets were gone, no trace of any living being behind. All that trouble to bring them there, now all gone without a trace. His steps were careful, unsure how stable the stairs were. Planks and chips fell down with his steps, making him reconsider his need to go up. The top, his little garden, was dead like the flowers from his hidden base. The trees were torn down. At least he knew someone had been there; trunks were missing.

The fox statue still stood, the tiniest of discoloration and chipped edges, unchanged for the most part. The sign under it had been ripped away, now it laid some blocks to the side. He picked it up, splinters all around, seeing the worn out ink. He remembered the message, but not the exact words. There were many times when he sat under the fox, his foot hitting the sign gently as he was rocked to rest. A present he couldn’t bring himself to tear down, even when ordered to. He kneeled, his hand tracing the almost gone letters, then placed the sign leaning against the fox’s body.

“Fundy?”

He knew that voice. He got up slowly, unsure if he was imagining it or if it was real. The wind was blowing his hair and the grass, the sun at its hottest point. He turned to the voice, seeing the face he had seen many times and remembered well. And for a moment, it was comforting to remember their adventures and pranks. A moment of tranquility, taking him back to a better time.

“Eret,” he called, still wondering if it was all in his head.

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Again, I don't know what to feel about this, but it's posted at least so that's an advancement!
> 
> Anything, please do let know. I'm going crazy ready and re-reading since I can't bring myself to ask people to review it beforehand. 
> 
> Also, Hamilton reference in the notes at the top. I hope someone got it :)


	2. Sent Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming back! :) 
> 
> » Word count: 3,085 «

Now that he looked, Eret looked very tired as if years had passed since he had last seen him. It felt that way, he couldn’t pinpoint the last time he had seen him. He vaguely remembered their talk, before he burnt the flag down. Niki’s screams still echoed in his head, a ghost to remind of the things he did. He had promised to take Schlatt down from the inside, and all the things he did in between his promise and then. Eret looked much older now, a face he’d never seen on him before. The shades covering his eyes, but not the bags under them. 

He took a step to him, stopping himself from running to him. His body wanted to run to him, feel someone else’s touch. There was something very wrong, like he was missing a big part of everything. But he didn’t, because he was scared to break that paradise his head was making.

“What are you… Where have you been?” Eret asked.

“What are you doing here?” Fundy asked, ignoring his question. He saw him raise his brow, a tiny grin on his lips. His tail was swaying slowly, synchronized with the wind. 

Eret chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

“We’re just passing by-”

“Eret!”

Fundy narrowed his eyes at the voice, then saw her running to Eret. Their eyes met briefly, and soon he was frozen as her arms wrapped around his body. He couldn’t say anything, just listening to the wind and her sobbing. Unsure, he hugged her as she pulled them to the ground. He heard footsteps coming to them, looking up to see Eret kneel beside them. There were so many words, none made sense.

“Where have you been?” Niki asked, her voice so soft and muffled in her sobs. She pulled away, seeing him again. Her hand caressed his cheek, convincing herself that it was him. His skin, the warmth and everything of him, it was Fundy. She was sure, and scared to lose him again. She didn’t care that her tears were making a mess of her face, she had what she cared about in her arms; that’s all.

Fundy narrowed his eyes to her question, same as Eret’s question. He looked at her, it surely was her. There was no one who could ever match her. There was no one who’s cry could ever break his heart like that. He looked at Eret, just barely catching him turn away as he wiped the corner of his eyes with the back of his hands. Now he was shaking, still no words to explain their questions. Before he realized, he too was crying and he didn’t know why.

“I… I have… I’ve only been gone for two days… Schatt sent me on a mission… I just came back…” He spoke, in between the sobs and hiccups. To his answer, Niki and Eret exchanged a confused look; his clue that it hadn't been two days as he remembered. He opened his mouth to ask, scared to hear the answer. “How… How long have I been gone for?”

“It’s been two years, Fundy. You’ve been gone for two years.”

The instances where his body completely turned off were rare and far in between, now was one of those times. Niki and Eret were silent too, waiting for a reaction perhaps. That wasn’t something he could give at that moment as his brain tried to process what he learnt. He opened his mouth, nothing coming out. Niki hugged him tight, only making him cry harder. Then Eret hugged them too. He didn’t really have a reason to cry, since he didn’t know what was going on. But it was the only thing he could think of.

After some minutes, Fundy finally calmed down enough to explain what went on. 

_It had been a week after the festival, tensions were high as ever and everything was falling apart; not literally but their sanity were crumbling like the walls not long before. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to anyone yet, not like he wanted to after everything that went on. Tubbo left to go join Pogtopia, and so did Quackity. He never knew George. He tried talking to him about it when they went to do Hbomb’s challenge, but didn’t get any concrete answer. So, in a way, he was the only one left by Schlatt’s side._

_He had been watching, listening to them every now and then. It made him anxious, his plan made him anxious. Fungi’s statue made him company, he missed many things. He wanted to hang out with anyone, but lately Schlatt’s temperament was over the roof and, with Tubbo’s and Quackity’s leave, he didn’t want to upset him further. He missed going around, messing with people or just talking to them. He hugged his knees, resting his head against them as loneliness engraved in the wind. Lately he didn’t mind him very much, and he was scared to accept it._

_His ears perked up, his tail twitching as he paid special attention to the sound of steps. He didn’t look up just yet, waiting to decipher if it’s a friendly or hostile approach. Soon he recognized the steps, now looking up to see Schlatt approaching calmly. He saw him, wearing his suit as usual, with an unfamiliar atmosphere with him. He dropped his knees, leaning against the statue._

_“Lovely day, don’t you think?” Schlatt asked, giving a vague gesture. He got within sight, admiring the fox statue with certain curiosity. He saw the sign, Fundy getting in the way as he read it. A gift, probably one given before the elections. Pathetic to hide it, he already read the names. He decided to ignore it, to see what the excuse will be. It was obvious Fundy’s loyalty was to be questioned. Everyone ran to Pogtopia, and of course Fundy wouldn’t be the difference. Everyone ran to Wilbur, to another insane person. It angered him._

_He wanted to hurt Wilbur in ways that left an impact. He’d already taken L’manburg from him, destroyed it and rebuilt it as Manburg. He stripped him of everything he worked for, he hurt the people he loved and stripped them of hope with each passing day. He was aware, everyone was, that Wilbur was slowly losing it, so Manburg didn’t matter anymore. He’d been thinking about it, for quite a while actually, he knew he stood no chance at all. At first, splitting them apart only gave him time. Now, slowly they were banding together. The outsiders, much to their agreement to stay out of L’manburg, were pretty much involved now; at least Dream was. Nothing was ever truly secret, with eyes and ears everywhere. So Fundy’s leave was inevitable, it was only a matter of time until then._

_“It’s a good day,” Fundy said simply._

_Schlatt nodded, turning to face somewhere else. He didn’t care for the sign, he didn’t care for the things hidden, and he absolutely didn’t care for the things that would happen._

_“I trust that you are still on my side?”_

_“Yes, Schlatt. Tubbo and Quackity don’t know what they are doing. It’s better to know who’s on our side now, than later on. A shame, they were very handy to have by our side.”_

_“Indeed, but nothing we can do about it now. Traitors are traitors, and they will pay eventually.”_

_Fundy gulped, just staring at his silhouette._

_“Very well. I have a favour to ask of you.”_

_“What is it? I will do whatever I can to fulfill it.”_

_Schlatt nodded again. He placed his arms behind him, watching the sun set far beyond the mountains. Fundy stood beside him, waiting a while for him to continue. He didn’t say anything, enjoying the view. Who knew if it’d be his last, beside the only person that could accomplish his morbid plan._

_“There’s this thing I need you to gather for me,” he began. He took a map out of his jacket, handing it to him. The sound of unfolding paper, then the wind. “Someone promised me a deal, I need you to complete it for me. As you know, I need to be here to keep control of this disarray. I believe it won’t be a problem?”_

_“It won’t. I will leave tomorrow morning. I should be back-“_

_“No, no, no, no.” He said calmly. “I will let you know when to leave. I will confirm it with my guy.”_

_“That’s fine then.”_

_After a couple of days since then, Wilbur and Schlatt came butting heads like they did. With Wilbur, Tommy with Tubbo and Quackity. They stood behind him, Tommy the only one daring to try and stop him. By the screaming, he deciphered that this meeting wasn’t planned. Techno joined not long after, his axe on his shoulders, waiting for any reason to attack. That meant Dream was somewhere near, that masked man seemed to be everywhere lately. And he saw him, far but watchful, never intervening. He shrugged, a grin plastered on his lips, when silence finally settled. He didn’t say anything, just watching Wilbur’s eyes widen was enough._

_Fundy got close, whispering that it was in their best interest to leave and de-escalate the conflict. As much as he liked arguing with Wilbur, a smirk appeared as he watched him crumble ever so slowly. He made a show, fixing his already perfect tie. All eyes on them. He couldn’t help but give every single one of them a glance. Tommy frowned, his hands were fists so tight his knuckles were the color of his shirt. Tubbo flinched and looked away, his grip wrinkling his sleeve. And Quackity, dear Quackity, was the definition of ‘don’t see, don’t feel’; breaking down ever so slightly. Techno was an unstoppable force, the pressure on the axe’s handle the same trembling hold he had with the crossbow. He didn’t care for Dream, just a watchful green silhouette among the betraying shadows. And Wilbur, sweet Wilbur never looked so miserable, a broken man watching everything slide off his hands. A good look, he admitted with his smile._

_“Well, it was an enjoyable conversation, not enough screaming but very enjoyable nonetheless. But I am afraid we will be first to be taking our leave. As much as I’d like to stay, you would have to excuse our departure.” He gestured vaguely, making everyone tense. He took pride in his honesty, and took pride in their desperation. He turned on his heels, taking a few steps before stopping. “Fundy?”_

_“Coming.”_

_Quick steps got louder, stopping beside him. He raised a hand, gesturing a wave as they walked away. It was silent, so very silent, with only their steps to make company. Their steps were matching, his own secure and confident while Fundy’s were just following. He spoke up, keeping his cool._

_“I believe it’s time. Are you ready to leave?”_

_His words meant so many things, they knew._

_“I’ve been ready since you first told me.” He spoke, his voice cracking just the slightest. “When do I leave?”_

_“Tomorrow morning works perfect.”_

_Schlatt continued walking, Fundy now falling behind. He paused, sighing._

_“You have done so much for me, Fundy. I might not say it often, but I am grateful to you for sticking by me.” He said, a speech he’d been practicing since then. How easy, to manipulate such a desperate need for approval. He turned, to see him looking back. What a pity, to be standing on the edge of two worlds, each step threatening to make him fall to his doom. “When everything is over, maybe we can do whatever you want. Maybe fishing, although I’d hate to get wet. Anything you want. It’s just us against all of them.”_

_Fundy chuckled._

_“We’ll figure something out.”_

_Before the sun even rose, he was already up and ready to leave. He hadn’t slept at all, everytime he closed his eyes he saw fire everywhere. He had been sitting under Fungi’s statue, his foot hitting the sign gently. He had no need for the sign, and he had contemplated removing it, but everytime he got close with an axe he couldn’t. He was tempted to go to someone’s place; he just wanted to talk to someone. He didn’t need someone to guide him anywhere, he didn’t need to be told he was wrong, and he didn’t need to tell people he didn’t mind being by Schlatt so much anymore. Tubbo and Quackity were out of the picture now, and he wasn’t very close to George. There weren’t many people who didn’t dislike him, for standing by an unfair tyrant. There weren’t many he could go talk to anymore, and he so desperately needed to be with someone. He just needed to feel not hated by anyone, for just a moment._

_When the first rays of sunshine made shadows, he got up dizzy from not moving for a handful of hours. He took the map out, his other hand fishing for a compass. He sighed, giving Fungi’s statue a final glance before making his way to the coordinates. If he was quick, he could be back before the estimated week. Beyond the line of trees, he dragged his feet, an uneasy feeling twisting his stomach. He carried on. Schlatt was the only thing he had going for himself now. He congratulated himself on silence, he had finally managed to be hated by everyone._

_The walk was more demanding than the map let know, making him wonder how Schlatt had known where to go. That was something he needed to ask, once he was back of course. The forest was so dense and humid, he didn’t like it very much. His tail kept catching the vines, every now and then cutting himself with the thorns. He sighed in frustration, finally giving up and crafting scissors to clean his way through. After the forest, he looked up with misery as he stood at the base of a mountain. He climbed up, wishing he had someone to talk to._

_He had stopped looking at the map so constantly swearing he kept seeing the numbers change. The compass wasn’t very helpful either, the needle was a mess randomly and he didn’t trust it just in case. The expedition was weird, but he was almost halfway there so he kept pushing through. It was crucial for Schlatt, and he only wanted someone to be proud of him; for the wrong goings even, that day was one of those days where he was past the point of caring. When the sun was setting, he put on his armor, shield and sword. It added weight to walk with. He didn’t sleep the first night, having made a lot of progress in the hours he had spent._

_When he reached a clearing, surrounded by trees, he reached the x and coordinates marked. He frowned, wondering where the person Schlatt said he’d be meeting. Then the thought hit, he hadn’t even asked what the person looked like, much less any important detail. So he stepped in the middle of the clearing, looking around as he called out. He felt very idiotic, silently hoping that the person would appear and hoped that the meeting wasn’t going to happen in a week. He looked at the watch, sighing. When he walked to the trees, the ground began shaking. Before he could get to safety, a hole opened under him and he fell in._

_The fall felt like forever. He stopped the fall with a water bucket, his heart racing as he tried catching his breath. His knees were weak, and he soon fell to the ground. Still shaking under his touch, or maybe that was just his head trying to make sense of what happened. There was no bedrock under him, his torch only illuminating the cold stones. He looked up, calculating a stack and a half of distance. He narrowed his eyes, seeing the tree shadows moving as if it was someone. First thing he did, breaking the blocks around. They did not break. That wasn’t good._

_He panicked, looking around, just making himself dizzy from spinning. His map was corrupted, and his compass spinning everywhere. That was spooky. He put them away, not wanting to throw them away just yet. He tried putting blocks to break, and that worked so at least he could build up; well, as long as it wasn’t next to the walls. While looking at his inventory, he was confused. Half of his things were missing. He swore his inventory was three quarters full when he got there, now there was just a quarter of his things. His food and torches were halved. All his blocks were gone, just ten wood planks left. His pants and helmet were gone, that was sad since they were enchanted. That maxed out the level of weirdness of the situation. He sat at the bottom, thinking how he was going to go up with just a handful of blocks._

_He looked at the clock, some minutes should have passed but the clock said otherwise. He narrowed his eyes, putting the blame on his shock. He pushed the thought aside, maybe he was reading it wrong all along, his priority was to get out of that pit._

_There was something tedious about building up, then placing water to go down and break the blocks. Then swimming up to repeat the process, again and again for another ten times. By the time he was up, he was exhausted and didn’t want to do anything anymore. But when he stopped to look around, he wasn’t even where he started. He looked at the map, thousands of blocks away from the point where he should’ve been. Only good thing, he was closer to home. It confused him so much._

_Against his better judgement, he decided to leave it at that and just go home. Surely Schlatt would understand why he hadn’t met the guy. Before beginning his way back, he looked at the clock for the final time. Surely some time should have passed, doing all that ordeal to get up. To his amusement, only a minute had passed. His eyes were wide, and he began wondering if Schlatt had anything to do with that. Then again, what reason would Schlatt have to do such a thing. Well, Schlatt had every reason to but he was sure he didn’t give his plan away just yet. Or so he hoped._

_•••••••_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Feedback is appreciated (any kind, try me >:0)


	3. Back To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming back! :)
> 
> » Word count: 754 «

Fundy played with the sign, too concentrated on it to see the sad exchange of looks between Eret and Niki. It had been two days, just two days. He was sure of it. He hadn't slept for those two days, and he wondered now if he hadn't slept for the two years they claimed he was gone for. It made him withdraw. And it could explain why he was desperate to find someone, to be with someone. Maybe he didn't even care anymore about being hated, he just needed to be with people he cared about; even if he had hurt them in levels that he couldn't fix. 

"What have I missed?" he asked, looking up with worry. The place, it was a mess. It was abandoned. It was broken, forgotten. What had happened? Two years, his head repeated. Maybe if he said it enough times, it would eventually make sense in his head. Just maybe. 

"It's a long story…" 

"I have time."

Fundy smirked, even if the shine of his eyes weren't matching. Eret smiled, shaking his head slightly. Niki played with the grass. There was something conforming about just sitting down, letting the wind play with their hair, without the worry of war or being caught. War was over, the cost was clear to all. 

"Come on, let's go before it's dark. We'll tell you everything over dinner." Eret said before getting up, shaking the dust from his pants. Fundy followed, hitting his head softly against the clay fox. He laughed, making Fundy stick his tongue out playfully. He helped Niki get up, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. 

They walked in silence, saying their silent goodbyes to the place as they did. Eret and Niki were leading the way to a place far from L'manburg, even further from the DSMP. Fundy looked around, vaguely remembering the place they were headed. It was kinda sad to leave all that behind, all the stories and the adventures left behind. Even the war and the conflict, the election and everything that happened in between. He was going to miss it all. The hurt and the happiness, all those emotions since the day they joined to the end. In a weird way, he was even going to miss the wars. 

Beyond the forest, there was a spot that yelled their intervention. Trees were cut and planted symmetrically, their pattern was planned. It was an open camp, not many houses standing up. There was no color, no nothing that reflected the liberty they had in the DSMP. No fancy construction, no thought-out houses, no imposing castles, no broken path or farm. Nothing. Just lack of motivation. 

He took a step back when everyone gathered around, their faces mirrored what Eret and Niki had looked like when he first saw them. All the color drained from their faces, the wind stole their words. There was silence, only sprinting getting louder with each second. He opened his mouth, his words stopped by a body tackling him to the ground. 

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered with a broken voice.

Fundy’s eyes opened wide by the words, feeling him tremble. Tears were flowing out his eyes again, not realizing. He hesitated, a choke caught on his throat, before hugging him back. He held him tight, not caring about wrinkling the jacket. Both of them cried, and he forgot about those around.

“I thought I lost you… I missed you so much… I’m so sorry for everything…” He said, repeatedly. He held him tight, scared to let go and losing him again. He didn’t want to lose him, the feeling of him slipping out of his hands terrorized him. The nightmares and the nights, all the time he didn’t sleep thinking of where he was. The anxiety and panicking attacks, thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong. And all the blame he put in himself. “I should have never left you… I’m so sorry…”

“Yuck,” Fundy replied when he pulled away, trying to hide his smile as he wiped his tears with the back of his hands. Then he realized he cried in front of everyone, it flustered him and made him shy. Like always, he hid it and turned indifferent about it; but everyone knew. “That was something. Let’s not do that ever again, Wilbur…”

Eret hit him in the back of the head, making him turn with a playful frown. He rolled his eyes, hidden by his shades, glad to have him back.

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, quick question, do yall prefer longer or shorter chapters? Or should it be middle ground? (say, 1k to 1.5k words) Just curious about it to see how to split things :)


	4. How It Went

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 3,964 «

_Out of impulse and to his better judgement, he went to confront Schlatt. The button, his hand guarding it in his pocket, was a threat he wanted so badly. Everything replayed in his head, an act he had seen so many times he knew how it went. Tommy had Tubbo now, he had Techno’s and Dream’s help. He could do it, he could press the button and it would bring an end to it all. If he couldn’t have it, he didn’t want Schlatt to have it, so no one would have his precious L’manburg. That confrontation, it pushed him to a new edge. His smiling face, unbothered and careless. He hated his guts, his everything. His return was a mistake. Just a press of the button and it could all end._

_And he was about to._

_Until he saw him._

_Fundy, his son, the most precious person in his world, standing there; not belonging. The suit, formality was never his style, with a tie he wanted to take away. He froze in place, wanting him to look back. For just a moment, only a moment to let him know that things would be alright. A little beam of hope, a ray or something, whatever, anything. He just wanted his son back, L’manburg didn’t matter on those days._

_Schlatt took pride in his silence, and he wanted to punch him. Seeing Fundy whisper something he couldn’t hear, the urgency in his actions was the tipping point. Schlatt turned, stopping shortly to wait for him. He stared at his son, pleading him to not go, his heart breaking when he saw him hesitate. He wanted to go after him, hold him like he used to do when he was little, tell him that he was there for him, that everything was going to be alright. But he couldn’t, he wasn’t, and things weren’t alright._

_Watching their backs, Schlatt’s arm around Fundy’s shoulders, becoming smaller in the seconds dragging into eternities. Tommy finally spoke up, throwing some choice words at them and everything. Tubbo tried to calm him down, words he wasn’t listening to. Quackity and Techno were quiet like usual, examining the situation. After what felt like forever, he glanced to where Dream was and saw him gone. A total mess._

_He wanted it all blown up._

_A week had passed since that incident, everyone was tense. Every sound made them jump, and every word was studied to dust. Dream had stopped by, a meeting with himself and Techno. Their talks were usually composed, calm and calculated. That time they weren’t. They were screaming at each other, yelling things out of desperation and threats filled with the need of destruction. Each had their soft-spot, their needs, and their wants. And for the first time since their agreement, they finally disagreed with something. Dream called it a day out of desperation, leaving the place storming. Angry as they were, they knew Dream would never sell them away. At the end of the day, overall they had the same goal._

_Techno sighed, frustrated. He, too, called it a night. He wished Wilbur a goodnight, not having any more energy to interact with anyone. He just wanted sleep, no talking or thinking._

_Wilbur leaned on the wall, sliding down it. He looked down, staring at the ground so still and cold. Everything was going wrong, and each day became worse. Everyone went to bed, catching a much needed sleep, except for him of course. His bangs fell in front of his face when he pulled his beanie out, the breeze cooling his head. He scrunched the beanie, the warmth cooling too soon on his hands. There was nothing in his head, just a need to bring an end to it all. It hurt until he was numb to it. At that point, only Fundy could break him further._

_When the sun came out, he was frozen in place. The light was bright, and he looked up; blinded by it. He stared at it, mesmerized by it until a silhouette blocked it. He couldn’t make out who it was, looking made his eyes hurt. So he turned away, rubbing his eyes. Moving his body hurt, maybe because he spent all night and dawn just sitting down in that spot._

_“The sun is not something you should be looking at.”_

_He made a face, taking a few to match the voice to its person._

_Techno sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. Tommy’s screaming was becoming louder, giving him a headache. He made a face about it, then turned to see Wilbur leaning on the wall to get up. There were things to be said, just not exactly the ones Wilbur wanted to hear._

_“How long have you been sitting there for?”_

_“What? Oh. I don’t know. When did you leave to sleep?”_

_“Well, that’s a very uncomfortable position to be sleeping in.”_

_“Tell me about it.”_

_Wilbur talked some more, surprised Techno was being responsive and chatty. They walked to the others, where the rooms were. Instantly they were hit with the loud screams only younger people could give, causing headaches to their still young heads. He smiled, nodding to whatever Tommy was saying, and shaking his head when Techno did too. He wasn’t paying attention, he couldn’t really. Techno sent them off, and they continued their walk to his room. He felt directly into it, sinking, and for once it felt comfortable. Techno sat on the edge of the bed, not saying anything. He closed his eyes, hugging his pillow tightly._

_“Sleep is necessary for a growing boy.”_

_Wilbur laughed, throwing him a pillow._

_"Stay a while," he murmured softly against the pillow._

_"I don't know, Wilbur, revolution waits for no man."_

_Wilbur groaned, getting up to grab him by the back of his shirt and pulling him down. Techno didn't object, just laying down._

_"You are no man. You are a pig."_

_"That's kinda rude."_

_The DSMP was quiet without everyone running around causing chaos, the tails of its essence lingered ever so ghostly everywhere. He didn't like it, not one bit. The chaos and the noise was comforting, the silence became unbearable._

_"Quiet morning?"_

_"Never been this quiet before."_

_Eret stopped, Karl catching up quickly. They walked on the path, still broken and blown up. They didn't say much. Even as silence fell upon them, company was always better than walking alone. The morning was warm, and the breeze balanced it out. Still, it wasn't beautiful. It wasn't good._

_"How are things going?" Karl asked, sitting on the edge of the communal area's roof. Eret sat beside him, thinking his answer through. Everywhere he looked, there was trace of them, of everyone. The buildings, the path, even the half-cut trees. He had joined well after all of that, and he could see himself making the walk a thousand times. What a view._

_"Give me a base reference."_

_Karl snorted, shaking his head. He glanced at the king, a royal that did not fit as one. Maybe it was the missing crown and luxurious cape, maybe it was the clear bags under his eyes and messy hair. Maybe there were a lot of them. He just blamed it on time. Time he didn't get to see, time he saw and the times he'd get to see. Just maybe, they'd last long enough for that._

_"Well, before the elections I suppose."_

_"Ah, terrible decision really." Eret laughed again, his bangs falling to his face. He pushed them aside, admiring the view too. To think that he helped build it, and to think he technically owned it all. What a shame really, to not want it at all. The things he would trade away. "Well, I guess it's a mess."_

_"Is it not always a mess?"_

_They laughed, Eret falling quieter after. He thought it over, and over, and over. He always did, it was the only thing he could do some days. Even after all that reflection, he still didn't know the answer. So many things went wrong, and none were going right. And deep down he knew, even if he didn't want to._

_Karl shifted closer, their shoulders touching. He pushed him lightly, receiving a friendly push in return._

_"I wish it wouldn't need to be like this," he whispered with a sad smile. He watched his feet swing out of sync._

_"So do I, really."_

_He smiled at his feet too, then glanced at the sky waking up with the birds. On the corner of his eyes, he saw a familiar silhouette running to them. He got up quickly, jumping down rather than going the safe way. He didn't care for the hearts lost in the fall. Something was wrong._

_"Tell me you've seen Fundy…" Niki's voice was low, barely louder than the chirping of the birds. She clinged to him. The tears had a force of their own. "Tell me you have seen him…"_

_Eret looked up at Karl, then back at Niki. He had no words, but he did have all the worry of the world now._

_Soon, members of the DSMP had joined them in looking for the fox. Word got around quickly. A week was a long time for someone to be away, especially someone so involved with everything like Fundy. For once, they put all the differences and betrayal aside. Schlatt was awfully quiet._

_"Tubbo!" Eret called, running to him. He had been running all day, never once tired. Everyone was running. They made the same path a thousand times, in hopes that maybe, just maybe they hadn't checked well and had missed something. Everyone looked distraught and exhausted. A feeling was settling down, he didn't want to think about it at all._

_"Eret!" He shook his head when they were in front of each other, seeing him look down. They smiled sadly at each other._

_In silence they continued walking, now holding torches to light their way around. Night had fallen hours ago, yet they still couldn't go to rest. The search was ongoing, even when they didn't who was still looking around. They tried lighting up the path in front of them, but it didn't help at all._

_"Maybe you should rest…" Eret said, rubbing the back of his neck with a little too much force. He frowned, then looked at the path under them. He stopped, Tubbo stopping a few steps in front. They were tense._

_"We need to find Fundy," he whispered. His grip on the torch was tighter. He tilted his head slightly, his neck hurting. It was a very long day. "That's all that matters…"_

_Eret paused, making a face at everything. He rubbed his neck again, his attention shifting at the rustling of leaves and sticks. When the body came to view, he looked like everyone else. Niki had been crying again, her eyes red and puffy. When she saw them, she rushed even quicker. He went to her, letting her rest a little without the worry of being attacked. She sat down with Tubbo, holding him as he kept watch._

_"We should head back. We won't do anything at all in such darkness." Eret pointed, putting a torch on the tree trunk as he took his shiny sword out. His sword's handle was stiff, and he began hating using it. "Let's go now."_

_Niki helped Tubbo stand up, letting him lean on her. He was tired, a young body worn out badly. She glanced at Eret, seeing him shrug. Tubbo yawned._

_Without discussion, Eret let Tubbo piggie-bag. She took the torch and sword, while Eret carried Tubbo; who was soon sleeping in the safety of them. He didn't say much, not wanting to wake him up._

_On their way back, they decided to just head to Eret's castle since it was the closest. With new tension in the air, they couldn't bring themselves to talk to anyone else. Every word was heartbreaking, and every steps hurt to take._

_The night was so silent, the moon looked so full that night, and everything looked so beautiful. What a shame it really wasn't. The moonlight was bathing everything, giving it a shine so mesmerizing and he didn't like it. In the back of his mind he could hear his voice, their talks on that very roof about everything and anything that came to mind. A melancholic grin spread on his lips, an expression he'd learnt to have when thinking of what was once their lives. And funny how things can change so easily._

_"It's cold outside," Niki said gently. She had a blanket around her, her steps tiny as the wind unsuccessfully pushed her back to safety. Her face was lit up with the moonlight, just like Eret's was. On top of the castle the view was breathtaking._

_"Then you should probably return." He smiled, watching her settled next to him. She looked tired, maybe a mirror of himself too. It had been long since they sat down to not talk. It seemed like next time was further and further._

_Niki gave a vague answer, or sound, he couldn't tell. The silence was defeating, but it became quiet with the passing of time. It was just them and ambient sounds, nature's call. He was at peace, for a moment. It was pointless yet he wished he'd be there with them, the four of them there together like those rare occasions. The million chases they had had, the million talks and the million silent nights they spent together. War was unforgiving, yet necessary. To fight and defend what they cared about. He made a face at his own opportunism, remembering well how he threw them under the bus with his betrayal. It wasn’t forgotten. The moon and the stars reminded nightly, the very sky they shared and would share for the rest of their lives. And his castle was lonely, until Fundy came back to do what he did best. The pranks and everything else. Somehow, like the cold breeze, he began to not mind it at all. He even missed him when he didn’t stop by, for mischief or just a chat. Ever since the election, he hadn’t seen him often. He hadn’t seen anyone often, if it wasn’t to help or something else. Some days he just wanted to go up to him, drag him away from Schlatt to remind him that there were other ways to defeat the tyrant. To remind him that there were people who still needed him, that he wasn’t hated. Then again, he knew the feeling of being hated too well like second nature. It was natural to avoid everyone hurt, it was natural to find someone who didn’t judge. When he was down, Fundy was the one who gave him a feeling of normalcy. And he wanted to do the same for him, because after all they weren’t so different. But Schlatt got to him before he could. The moon was bright, a ray of hope that he so desperately needed._

_It was inevitable for their minds to retake the paths, tracing every step and study every corner studied a thousand times by someone else already. She had done that in the place where L’manburg had stood tall and safe once. And every time, she broke down. His betrayal still weighed heavy on her. She had cried because of him, the flag, the walls and everything after. Indeed she hated his guts, yet she was desperate to find him. His running presidential partner, gone without a trace. Yes, she hated him but loathed Schlatt even more._

_Wilbur, his height, his voice, his aura, his very self. When he walked in a room, everyone looked. When he spoke, everyone listened. When he was there, everyone watched. When he wasn’t there, everyone wondered what he’d do. Someone so imposing, a great pillar to the greatness of L’manburg. In his back he carried them through a war, not all the time to victory but as long as he was there they would be together. He was the backbone of L’manburg, without him there was no L’manburg. He was Schlatt’s direct threat, a force only a maniac was reckoned to go against. So, emotional as it was, after thinking it through it was a beneficiary to call for him to cast him away. And with Wilbur, Tommy left too._

_Schlatt, a tyrant whose very presence acclaimed power and the need for more. He was level-headed, his decisions calculated and in his narrative he was right. Imposing and lunatic, but credit where credit is due. To push and drag Wilbur, a composed person, through those limits was impressive. To require a god forever thirsty of blood to be defeated. To require the assistance of another power hungry god to be defeated. Indeed, impressive for someone whose goal became unclear with the ticking of time. What a shame, really, to go to such lengths to destroy someone to prove a point._

_Fundy was just someone who wanted approval perhaps. Someone who lost their way, someone who in search of themselves lost themselves in corruption. Someone who found comfort in a terrible situation. Everyone makes mistakes, and he made a big one out of desperation. She deemed him unforgivable, and she wanted to close herself to him. But she didn’t, she couldn’t even when he chose to hurt her the way he did. At least with Schlatt, she knew where he was. Now, she didn’t have the kind of comfort._

_“Do you think we can ever go back to how things were?” She asked, barley louder than the wind making the leaves dance. She glanced at his companion, him looking back. There was a need for confirmation that they both desperately needed, but didn’t dare admit for fear of the worse._

_“Back to when?”_

_She looked up, then down to finally return to him. Her eyes glazed in tears._

_“I just want my friends back…”_

_It was dawn, the fifth dawn, that woke him up again. Sleeping while sitting down was doing his back terrible wonders, but at night he had no energy left to go to his room once he came back. That is if he came back to Pogtopia. Most times he just didn’t sleep, most times he collapsed from exhaustion where he was. Most people knew, but chose to do anything or just ignored it. Most people were doing the same, but at least went to rest a couple of hours. Everyone was losing hope. Time was just passing by in front of them, with no clue or anything._

_That morning was a rare occasion, where he woke with a red cape around him. Slowly he began waking up fully, everything hurting like all those times. The cape slid down, letting the breeze hit his body. He was shaking, lately his body did that often. He glanced to his side when weight fell on his shoulder, Techno’s head rested on his shoulder. A smile made his way into his face, making his heart ache in a good way. He rested his head on his, able to relax for the first time. He could afford a few more minutes, he owed it to him for the hours spent. A little more rest wouldn’t hurt._

_“Is this the right course of action?” Dream asked, stopping Wilbur from burning a whole forest._

_“We can replant it later.”_

_“Doesn’t make it any good.”_

_Dream took a step forward, making him step back. He tightened his fists._

_“Give me the flint-and-steel.”_

_“No.”_

_In a short time, they were struggling on the ground. Some punches were thrown, some received and some missed. It wasn’t until they were physically pulled away that they stopped. Techno was holding Wilbur away, George and Sapnap holding Dream with Tommy in between them. More yelling was thrown, until told to stop. Some minutes passed, with the newcomers now screaming at their respective friends. Then some more minutes later they were quiet, letting their heads cool down. Techno was the first to speak, to the shock of everyone._

_“Why?”_

_“I need to find Fundy…”_

_“He wants to burn the forest down!”_

_Techno glanced at Dream, then back at Wilbur. Then raised a brow, noticing the shiny, newly-crafted flint-and-steel. He stretched his hand, silently demanding the item. Wilbur flinched, then frowned. He was firmer._

_At the end he gave it up._

_“It’s been a month…” Wilbur whispered. He sat down, holding his head with his hands. Tommy on his side, a hand landing on his back. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the worst thoughts in his mind. “It’s been a whole fucking month… And there’s no trace of him… Nothing… There’s nothing…”_

_“Have you talked to Schlatt yet?” Dream asked, looking up at them. Sapnap and George sat on his sides, patient as always._

_“Don’t give him ideas!” Tommy yelled, frowning._

_Dream shrugged, playing with his mask then he glanced back again. He smirked, seeing him flinch. George and Sapnap whispered something behind him, and he hit them playfully as he giggled too. His mask fell to the ground._

_“I’ve tried talking to him, but he won’t cooperate. Maybe he will give you something, or a clue.”_

_“Not your worst idea,” Techno commented with a grin. Dream gave a vague gesture, close to a little bow._

_A couple of hours spent cooling down, chilling their heads to distress. A month filled with stress and tension wasn’t good for anyone, composed as they were. Everyone was stressed like that, and days became shorter each time. The mood became gloomy, everyone sharing the same single thought. If it came to it, the wound would never heal. In silence they got up, Wilbur first followed by Dream, then the rest. Pogtopia walked first, followed by the DSMP many steps behind._

_Wilbur walked quicker, pounding on the door before anyone could stop him. The door opened slowly, and he couldn’t bring himself to scream when he saw him._

_“What do you want?”_

_Schlatt was disheveled, his shirt wrinkled, his beard unkempt, and the smell of alcohol was prominent. Wilbur took a step back, and he saw everyone else. Great, just what he needed. He stepped out, closing the door behind and he leaned on it. The sun was still high, it hurt his eyes. A smirk hid his miserable state, he knew the moment was coming. Surprised that it took that long._

_“Where is he?”_

_He chuckled, shaking his head. He kept the smirk._

_“I don’t know.”_

_In those few seconds he forgot everything. He pushed him against the door, lifting him from the collar. He was mad again, everything that was pent-up feelings suddenly finding a crack to slip out finally. All the screaming, the words and everything. Minutes felt like eternities, until an arm pulled him away. Techno was firm, Dream on the other side. He threw him down, pulled away again. His fist was trembling with an itch, wanting contact with strength he had contained._

_Schlatt stretched his neck, his hand going to his neck. It hurt, but the remaining alcohol in his system aided in numbing it. He laughed bitterly, watching the furry on Wilbur’s eyes. He laughed at himself, he didn’t even enjoy the anger._

_“You’ve been quiet for a month. Don’t you think it’s enough?” Dream stated, frowning behind his mask. He looked down slightly, keeping eye contact with him. It was him who looked away first, it was a first._

_“Like I said, I don’t know where he is,” he laughed in bitterness. He shook his head slowly, then looked up to lean on the door again. He sighed. “Is that all you are here for? I don’t have the answers. You can leave now.”_

_•••••••_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is welcome! I know the narrative might be confusing, since I'm still learning how to transition better.
> 
> Also, do yall prefer narrative or conversations? Answers won't affect anything, I'm just curious :)


	5. Stop Interrupting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 1,622 «

Fundy played with his food, picking at it. They had all gathered in the camp's center, with a campfire in the middle, as they shared supper that calm night. He could see the pain in everyone's face as the story was being told, a pain he shared yet didn't know about. Two years, his head still couldn't wrap around it. He sighed, putting his plate down. There was no appetite, no one had it. He laid his head on Eret’s lap after Tubbo did the same on Niki's lap. He just listened to the story going around, trying his hardest to not cry again.

_Lately, Tubbo began losing interest in his self-care. It was hard to get him out of bed, and to get him to eat something. Tommy was worried, his best friend just wasn't himself. No one was. And it was hard to stay motivated with everyone so depressed._

_What shocked him the most was in the fourth month of Fundy's disappearance. He went to wake Tubbo up, like he was doing for the last couple of weeks. If no one went, Tubbo would just stay in his room with no strength to go look for him anymore. Most people were losing hope too. The searches were less and shorter. It just pained them to walk the same paths and still return with nothing. He shook the creeping thought, not wanting to believe just yet._

_He knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again, saying who it was. Still no answer. A frown made his way, and he just barged inside. It wasn't the first time, but lately it felt intrusive. Tubbo was just sitting in bed, back against the wall, his gaze lost on the sheets. All of his words disappeared, another feeling settling in its place; sadness._

_"Hey Tubbo…" he called softly. He was awkward now, standing in front of the door. Tubbo didn't even look up, didn't even acknowledge his presence. He looked back, reassuring himself that everyone else had left already before closing the door. It was just them in Pogtopia, even when they took temporary stay in the DSMP; far from where L'manburg once stood._

_"Tommy?"_

_His eyes widened, surprised to finally be acknowledged. His body moved on its own, sitting on the bed with him. The light was sipping through the window, the blinds looked dusty like they hadn't been moved in some time now. A question for later, if he remembered._

_"I think it's my fault Fundy is gone."_

_"What?"_

_Tubbo looked up, his face oddly dried yet drained from everything that made him him. The brightness of his cheeks and sparkle in his eyes were gone, replaced with dullness and shades of nothing. His hair was a mess, longer now that he hadn't bothered to care for it. He saw Tommy, wondering how colors could hurt his eyes like that. The thought had been running in his head for quite a while now._

_"Maybe I shouldn't have left Schlatt. I should have stuck a little longer with him." He began letting his thoughts out, dictating word by word the declaration and conclusion his mind came up with. And deep inside, it all made sense. Anything made sense when grief was settling in. "Don't you think so, Tommy? I think so. I've been thinking about it. Yeah, maybe I should have stayed a little longer. Then maybe none of this would have happened, Fundy wouldn't be gone."_

_"That's- I don't… Tubbo I don't think…"_

_Tommy made a face, again and again, bathing in confusion. Seeing him believe his words was uncomfortable. Grief does a lot of things to people's heads, he didn't know to what extent. He opened his mouth, closing it when the first tears came._

_"I shouldn't have left him… It's all my fault…" He cried, looking down again. Gravity pulling his years to his hands, tightly gripping his sheets. His vision was blurry with tears. "It's all my fault… I shouldn't have left him… It's all my fault…"_

_Heartbreaking as it was, the situation brought up sides of them that no one would have guessed otherwise. And how shameful that it took one of them to disappear to bring peace to war, temporary as time let know. Four months since Fundy was gone. Four months of no one talking about war or revolution. Four months of peace in exchange of dread. Eventually, as the clock ticked, blame and guilt had to come. And Tubbo…_

_Tubbo was not guilty._

_"Tommy?" he called after a couple of minutes of silence, enough to stop crying. His best friend was sitting there, speechless and looking at his fists. All he had was guilt, little comfort was left to be given. "Tommy are you alright?"_

_"It's not your fault Tubbo."_

_"What?"_

_Tommy looked up, radiating his trademark determination. Tubbo was mesmerized by it, having seen it many times and every time he acted like it was the first time. How could someone be so sure and confident? He didn't know, and didn't need to know. As long as that person was his friend, it didn't matter at all. It was almost contagious._

"Hm, I don't know, Tubbo. I have to disagree on that." Fundy interrupted, making some of them giggled and others outright laugh. He smirked, enjoying the sound of Tommy complaining like the gremlin he was. He caught Eret rolling his eyes like he always did. 

There was something about being with everyone, no war and nothing in between that could separate them. Yet, when he looked around he could see they were pretty much in their own sections. Even with the safety of being together, there was the lingering feeling of everything being on the edge of breaking down again. A threat looming over them. He couldn't ignore it, even if everyone learnt to get used to it. 

He turned to face the fire, admiring the flames and the smoke performing their dance in their wooden stage. The fire has always been something people stared at, for no reason sometimes. It was one of those moments.

_Tommy got up, his fists tight on his sides. He looked at Tubbo, studying his confused expression. An idea came to mind, one that was risky and had every crack to go wrong. Another thing that was he was known for._   


_"I've got a plan. And I need your help."_

_Contrasting his eagerness to go, Tubbo remained in bed. He flinched at the thought of getting out of bed, even if he needed to eventually. When he woke up, there were no plans to get out. Much less go accompanying Tommy on one of his plans. He opened his mouth to refuse, but closed it. Then he shook his head slightly, turning away from him to face the opened window and dusty blinds. They had been like that for quite some time now._

_"Come on Tubbo! You have to help me." Tommy argued, his fists easing up. He needed him by his side, like they had promised after that awful festival. "Tubbo? Please."_

_"I'm sorry Tommy… I… I don't know if I can do this anymore. Every day we go out, we look everywhere again and again, and there's nothing. We come back home with nothing. I'm tired, I'm devastated. I feel guilty, Tommy."_

_"But it's not your fault!"_

_Tommy exclaimed, making his turn. He flinched, seeing nothing on him. No anger, no sadness, no nothing._

_"You might feel that way. But I feel guilty."_

"Oh, cliffhanger," Fundy interrupted again. He got up, stretching his body. As much as he acted careless, he couldn't bring himself to finish listening to that. He couldn't even look at Tubbo or Tommy for more than a second. "It's late. We can continue another time."

Everyone was hesitant, even when they've heard it already. It was one way to cope with the loss, telling and re-telling the story, hoping that they would catch something they've missed the other times. So they knew how it went at its core. But they haven't told it for a couple of months now, it felt like longer. 

"Fundy will be Fundy, no matter how much time passes," Eret joked as he got up. Most were already up, waiting for something before heading their own way. It wasn't unusual for everyone to head different ways, it had always been like that since the beginning, but lately it felt like they were drifting apart. He didn't like the thought. 

They laughed at the comment, most agreeing too. Then their goodnight came before heading back to their places. There were no homes, it was hard to call the camp a home. It was just a place to rest, somewhere where they could pretend to be safe. Change was one of the hardest things anyone could face, especially when no one is ready for it. To make matters worse, it wasn't a change for the better of anyone. 

Eret offered to put the fire out, meaning everyone was already gone by the time the flames were put out. 

Fundy stayed with Eret, Niki and Tubbo. They were his friends, very precious beings that he hurt again and again. Niki guided them back to their place, the four of them holding torches to light their way. He wondered for a moment if that's how they were feeling when they were looking for him, long nights walking in unfamiliar places holding torches. He wondered, that's all they could do. 

When they got there, someone was waiting for them at the door. Niki smiled, tilting her head at the sudden visit. Eret waved, Tubbo too. Fundy narrowed his eyes, the face familiar but hard to pinpoint. Maybe it was the beard. 

Maybe it was the lack of cat maid outfit. 

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please I hope people know who the last character was
> 
> Also, question, would people be interested in Philza Minecraft being added? I've been thinking
> 
> Also...   
> Wouldn't it be funny if...  
> People shared this with their friends...   
> Haha that would be pretty hilarious thing to do...   
> Man, I want the clout :(


	6. Pets and Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 2,677 «
> 
> [Not me starting to hate what I'm writing man. Please give me pity kudos /j]

“Stop by my place for a bit? I believe there’s someone who you’d like to see.”

Fundy made a face, not so pleasant memories coming up.

“I promise it’ll be worth your time.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, H. It’s been two years, but I don’t really trust that you won’t do…”

“Do what?”

“You know…”

H raised a brow, a smirk suddenly making its way on his face. Fundy saw, and backed away shaking his head.

To the awkward situation, Niki butted in with her cheery smile. 

“Let’s take a walk. I’m not feeling too tired.” She said, grabbing their arms as she pulled them away in the general direction of Hbomb’s place. The other two followed silently, it was better that way.

They walked in silence, with the casual comment on future plans for the new place. Fundy couldn’t understand how every plan was spoken like a mere thought, with no actual hope of becoming true. It was so different from back then. It was their world to do as they pleased, their creativity only limited by the lack of materials, and overall it should’ve been plans everyone looked forward to. But no one did, with underlying fear to be taken away once again. And even if he hadn’t been there with them for those two years, disasters and nightmares he had to learn slowly, he knew the feeling of standing on the edge of losing it all. He left the place with that feeling after all.

H’s place was something, really, nothing compared to Eret’s castle. He couldn’t help it, he missed that place a lot. Still, it was pretty livable.

“Tommy?” Tubbo questioned, making everyone turn to the direction of the footsteps. He saw his best friend, covering so much space in such a short time. Must be nice to be tall, he thought.

“I wanted to finish telling the thing.”

“You didn’t have to run, you know.”

They laughed shortly, before being invited in. It wasn’t a place to house that many people, but it would have to do for a short while. H went into a separate room, probably his own room, as the rest settled down. Eret and Niki sat next to each other on the couch, while the other three sat on the floor. There wasn’t much to discuss; well, there was but they weren’t quite ready. And it would have been rude for them to start without their host.

“It’s been some time now, but it shouldn’t be- Oh shit-”

Before they could see H come out of his room, they saw three cats and two foxes run out first. They each sprang to their claimed spots, laying around the already seated people. The cat with fur colored snow stopped to stare at the not so new face, a familiar face really. Her tag was shiny as new gold, her name engraved on it neatly. She sat patiently, licking her paw as the others glanced with curiosity. She wasn't scared. 

"Hey Mittens…" Fundy called softly, a tiny grin on his face. Her ears perked at her name, turning to see H. He looked at him too, something overwhelming his senses in an instant. "I see H's been taking care of all of yous…" 

Mittens meowed in response, showing pride in H's place. She got up and walked to Fundy, not hesitant. She purred at his hand giving gentle scratches, enjoying the attention. She was the baby of the cats, she loved the attention. Boots perked up, making his way to them. She settled on his lap. 

“Boots,” Fundy called him too. He was quick to wipe his tears, and they sensed his burst of emotions. They jumped on his legs, with the grace of their species. "You've all gotten so fat… Fatties…" 

As much as Fundy tried to be himself in those types of situations, his emotions were showing through his deceiving jokes. Even his cats could sense through his words, cuddling with him more. His hands were trembling as he touched them, wanting the feeling to be real. The trembling didn't stop at all. 

The foxes, seeing their friends showered in attention of the very similar being, were kinda jealous. They jumped from Tommy's and Tubbo's attention, yapping as they jumped to his shoulders from behind. 

That's when Fundy cried. In between his sobs, he talked to his pets, noting how much they've grown and how much he'd missed them. Their fur was warm and soft as ever, just like he remembered that very day he left on his quest. He was ashamed, he should've spent a little longer with them that night. Just a little longer and maybe he wouldn't have missed two years. And it was heartbreaking, remembering how old they were and how unchanged he actually was. 

The rest watched as friends were reunited once again. Tears were being shed, not like any of them would ever admit anyways. It was quiet, like any other day. Except, it didn't bother nor broke them too much this time. 

After some minutes, Fundy put them down after wiping his wet face with his sleeves. All those tears were the most water they probably had in a long time. He made a mental note to wash it as soon as he could, which of course he was going to forget. 

"Thank you for looking after H all this time. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have gotten this far without all of you." He commented innocently, making them sound their approval with the statement. He faced up, letting gravity keep his tears in check. 

Ever since that day, that terrible idea he had, he was never able to see H eye to eye. It was super awkward to do so, and he regretted it so much. But he pushed all of that aside, to see him. H was shameless and interesting, and he was a good guy. Regardless of everything, a good guy. 

"Can't say I entirely disagree," H said with a little laugh. 

Before he could retell funny stories, Fundy had made his way to hug him. He was shocked, but it was pleasant. He hugged him back, whispering things that others couldn't hear. It was an emotive act, and in truth he dragged it longer than needed because he was really glad that Fundy was back; not because Fundy was sobbing in his shirt, of course not. 

Some minutes passed, and the pets got jealous. Their owners weren't paying them attention, instead they were close enough for far too long. The foxes yapped and the cats got in the way, making them separate. Fundy still faced him, wiping his face discreetly. 

"Everyone is jealous today it seems," H joked, kneeling to pet them. They meowed their complaints, settling down with his pampering. "Maybe it's a little late to finish now?" 

"Time is relative," Tubbo chirped. 

"Can't argue with that."

They settled again, this time with Fundy sitting with H to pamper to their spoiled furry babies. It was alright, everyone knew how things went anyways. 

_With no luck trying to convince Tubbo to help, he went on his way to at least get Eret or Niki to stay with him. Yes, he trusted that Tubbo was smart enough to not do reckless things. And no, he also didn't trust that Tubbo wouldn't do reckless things under the influence of grief and guilt. How quick had it turned to that. Almost like they had no time to transition through their emotions properly._

_Both of them agreed to stay with him. Lately the three of them were tight as ever. Selfishness made its way out, in the worse moments. He was jealous of them, that Tubbo relied on them for support. It was poisonous to think that way. He knew. Trust was seeing people in their worst states and their lowest points. Trust was helping them get out of that state and bring them up, or at least make them company. They were doing that for him, the three of them grieving at a level he couldn't get to. And he hated himself for ever wanting them to stop._

_He walked with no actual plan, not even knowing where his destination was. He needed to find someone, that was all. Finding them was easy. Getting them to help, well, not so much._

_The creeper holes were being ignored more, with reasons this time. No one had the energy to fill them in nor fix them. His inventory had enough, so he did it. To distract his mind. There was a greater thing to worry about. He couldn't be selfish._

_"Tommy!" Wilbur yelled, pulling the boy from the hole. "What are you doing? Your hands are bleeding! Are you out of your mind?! What are you thinking?!"_

_No answer._

_Techno was a few steps behind, holding a compass bent from being dropped. Even he had dropped that very compass a few times, when he got so tired from searching. Everyone had. The marks on the metal were proof._

_"Tommy!"_

_"So- Sorry. What were you saying?"_

_Wilbur frowned, pulling his hands in between them. He saw down, confused, until he saw the blood. His knuckles were bloody and numb, cuts and dirt decorating his pale skin. The sting was flowing through his body. It certainly was there, but he couldn't really feel the pain. Wilbur shook his, breaking his trance again. His mind was elsewhere, probably beating himself down for thinking about it._

_"Unrelated question, but what you seen Quackity at all today?"_

_"He's been with Karl for the past two weeks. Have you forgotten?"_

_"Oh, that's right. Yes, I remember now."_

_Wilbur exchanged a look with Techno while he tried to form a plan, quickly. He was being suspicious like always, yet this time he actually needed his plan to not be known._

_"You know I'm all for punching things and all," Techno spoke, "but maybe now's not the best time to do that."_

_"You know, lately I've been agreeing with you a lot. I don't know if that's good or bad."_

_"That's incredible for me. I'm always in the mood for some revolution and the likes."_

_"And that's where I draw the line." Wilbur shook his head while Techno just shrugged. His attention returned to Tommy, who was about to sprint into a run. "Now, can you tell me what's the meaning of all of this? You don't fix holes by punching them."_

_"That's because you're not punching hard enough."_

_"Techno please."_

_"I… Need time to think. See you later."_

_He ran away from them._

_He continued running, just in case they were following. He didn't hear footsteps for a while now, but he kept going. Just in case. No one could be too sure._

_Now that he thought about it, time was flashing before his eyes. One day they were fighting for independence and the next they were losing hope to find Fundy. Those two weeks of Quackity's absence were blurry photographs in his head, barely making sense and barely telling a story. Then Tubbo, his withdrawal was gradual yet it felt like just yesterday they were gathering resources for whatever. Time was friends with no man, and it was slipping out of grasp._

_Karl's purple clothing always stood out. They really needed to be more colorful in their builds, and he was guilty of always falling into the grey scale blocks. He dashed to him, seeing Quackity not too far. Just who he needed to find._

_"Rare to see you here so early," Karl commented with a smile._

_"I have a plan."_

_"I don't like where this is going."_

_"Hear me out."_

_Quackity shook his head._

_"Tommy, I appreciate your time and effort to plan out whatever it is that you planned, but I don't think I can be part of it." He spoke, hiding his face from view by looking away._

_In him, he saw the same thing he saw in Tubbo. He worried._

_"Big Q-"_

_"Don't call me that…"_

_"But- Okay, okay. Quackity, hear me out-"_

_"I'm fine just being part of the search team, Tommy."_

_"But we can find clues!"_

_"That's enough!" He exclaimed, fury in his fists. He flinched at himself, seeing Karl back away and Tommy looking desperate. He just couldn't. "That's… enough, Tommy… Please…"_

_Quackity hesitated, his hand reaching for Karl but stopping himself short of him. He hid his hands in the pocket of his hoodie; not really his hoodie. There was nothing else to say, he had said enough already. He turned on his heels and headed back to Karl's place._

_"You should… probably go after him…" he said, looking down at his shadow on the ground. The pebbles were mocking him, he didn't know how but they were. He was just about to cry from frustration and desperation._

_"I've got a couple of minutes," Karl said._

_He sat at the bottom of a ditch, the dirt and dust were last on the list. Karl sat across, his soles touching the wall. He hugged his knees, feeling tiny in that place. Still, he was adamant on having their conversation there. It was about as nice as the next location. So he stayed, they stayed._

_“Well?”_

_“I was thinking. You know, we all know that Schlatt knows where Fundy is, right? Is obvious, right? So, like, I was thinking that maybe if someone talks to him, maybe we can get information from him!”_

_“You want Quackity to go talk to Schlatt?” Karl was dumbfounded, making a face to the request. “That’s a terrible-”_

_“Hear me out, okay? If we do it right-”_

_“We?” He was taken aback, tilting his head. “He’s not ready to confront him! You can’t force him-”_

_“I know! I know… But what other option do we have? He won’t tell anything to Dream or Wilbur, or anyone! He will have to say something too Quackity, right? Like, come on man, what else can we do?”_

_Karl stopped dry, shaking his head. He got up, climbing out of the ditch. Tommy followed, reminding him that it’s been months with nothing. No clue, no hint, no nothing. Surely Fundy couldn’t have disappeared without a trace, someone must’ve known. Surely, Schlatt would be the obvious reason. No one except for him spoke to Fundy; saying that out loud made them stop. How sad that just then they realized._

_“How is it that no one has spoken to him?” Karl asked, with genuine concern._

_He stopped, looking at the ground._

_“Does anyone know? Not a word since the festival? I…”_

_“We made mistakes…”_

_“I’ll talk to Quackity… And Wilbur and whoever I need to talk to… You… I don’t know, Tommy, please look after yourself and Tubbo. I will try to sort something out…”_

_“Karl-”_

_“You need to look after yourself, okay? Let’s not start fighting now. We don’t have the time for that.”_

“I-” Tommy stopped himself, finally looking up from his hands and seeing the faces around. “I’m sorry… Maybe I can’t actually finish the story… Uh… Karl can finish it!”

Fundy tilted his head, patting Mittens’ head. He grinned sadly, with a tiny shrug.

“Are you alright?”

Tommy’s eyes widened, dropping his head then raising it again. 

Fundy chuckled, shaking his head.

“Let’s go to sleep,” he suggested with a grin, “you all look so tired.” Mittens rubbed her head on his hand, purring softly. He smiled at her.

“Staying the night?” H asked, trying to ease the atmosphere a little more. Fundy was never one to outright change a topic unless necessary, and that time was necessary. The others were thinking the same, exchanging glances and all. He just hoped that until departure, no one would have a breakdown. He just didn’t know who had the strength to comfort anymore, because he didn’t have it in him. 

“Yeh, I'll sleep with my babies!” He excitedly exclaimed, lifting his cat above his head. Everyone laughed, his tail unable to hide his gladness to de-escalate the situation. His smile was wide, his pets masking his true intentions.

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized something funny. So, I'm trying to update this daily (it'll probably change because life is a beach) and when I put the date, I put my date of course. But thing is, I live in a place where the I might be a day or a couple of hours ahead (if anyone can guess, it'll be funny). So, I'm updating this on Monday 16th at 18:41. But of course it's not the same for everyone.
> 
> So my question is, are you reading it on the 15 or 16? I'm curious :)


	7. Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 1,039 «
> 
> Spoiler: Brain no read = Heart no feel = :)

After everyone lingered a little too long on the door, holding a little while longer on the hugs, at the end it was just Fundy and H left. They pampered the furry babies, baby-talking to them as they silently agreed to ignore the talk for a bit longer. Fundy sat crossed-legs lifting one of his foxes, making funny faces. It was funny how their ears and tails swayed happily in sync, both foxes happy to see each other. H looked at them, patting Boots and scratching the fox’s head laying on his shoulders. He smirked, tilting his head when he was finally noticed. Fundy’s face flustered.

“What?” He asked, faking a frown. He put the fox down, pouting at his smirk. 

“Is Master happy?” He asked innocently, catching the fox that jumped to his arms. He held the fox, which stood on its back legs to play with its sibling. He erupted in laughter again when Fundy made a face.

“God no, shut up! Don’t!” He pouted, glaring at him. “Shut up! I hate, hate, hate that!”

H laughed, putting down the pets as he got up. He shook the fur on his clothes, but nothing came out. The pets were whiny from the lack of attention, then ran to Fundy for attention. It was nice to see them together, remembering that time he helped him get the cats. Although it was so long ago, he still remembered. The cat-maid suit was probably somewhere hidden in his closet, and he almost wanted to go look for it. Fundy’s glare gave him the motivation. Hopefully it would still fit.

The place was tiny, enough for one person only. It was a surprise it even fit an adult and four pets, so there was no actual place for him to stay the night. With just a blanket on the floor, Fundy laid with his pets around him. With the lights out and barely any moonlight sipping through the blinds, he wasn’t very tired. He outlined shapes on the ceiling, sighing. A smile curved on his lips, with tears lazily sliding down. In the darkness of the room, he felt a body lay next to him. Who else but H. He turned to his side, seeing him stare at the ceiling with new-found intensity. He wiped his face, closing his eyes to enjoy the quietness in the moment. 

There was a world and space to discuss, so many things running circles in their heads. Thoughts wild around the room, filling the already tiny place. It felt cramped with unsaid things, memories shared and memories lost too. But it was alright. They had the company of a friend and the furry friends; all furries for H anyways. Smiles told stories, memories sailing far from reach and pulling them along. 

Fundy laid on his back again, having enough of staring at another man. He giggled at that. He reached over and grabbed H’s hand, just because.

They laid in silence, holding hands because friends were allowed to do that. A friend’s touch always felt good, especially when there were so many uncertainties in life. Just a hand to hold, to guide and someone to fall to. Indeed, it was good to have friends like that. There was a kind of safety they weren’t aware of, one that rocked them to slumber so gently and with such care they never knew off. 

“Fundy?”

“Hm?”

“Glad to have you back.”

By the time the sun was awake, the birds were chirping their alarms. He frowned, sleeping on the floor wasn’t very comfortable and not one of his best ideas. The furry bodies woke up with him, yawning too as he patted them softly. He smiled, wishing them good morning and he froze at the empty space next to him. His hand was tingling, suddenly cold from the warmth. His body froze, a wild thought crashing into his head. As if Fundy had never been there, because it looked empty like no one had been there. So many thoughts were running circles, breaking the peace of the room. Like a hurricane in a tight place.

He got up quickly, making himself dizzy with the sudden movement. He looked around repeatedly. In every corner and edge, searching for any sign of him. Any trace and any clue that let him be at peace. He just needed to know that it wasn’t in his head. It couldn’t be happening again. They couldn’t lose him again, not after getting him back. Two years. Two years without knowing where Fundy had been, two years of looking for him. Two years of looking after his pets, keeping them company as they cried at night for someone that was gone suddenly. Like them, he perked up at every knock on the door, he followed every glimpse of movement that led nowhere. Like them, he desperately wanted him to show up one day. He went over it again and again. He went over it so many times it became a play in his head, each a character with their lines and actions. Fundy would walked in, looking tired and in need of a shower, he wouldn’t even be mad. There was no reason to be. Every feeling other than relief would have gone with the sight. 

“Oh, sorry for snooping,” Fundy apologized after being caught looking around H's room. He opened his mouth, but was stopped when H came crashing into his arms. 

His breathing became quick and heavy, breaking down on him. He gripped the back of his shirt, almost pulling it just to hold him tight. Fear was a strong feeling. Fear of losing again was an even stronger feeling. Those two years flashed in his mind. All those days and nights with the anxiety of looking, of not finding anything. He couldn’t ignore it.

“What a cry-baby,” Fundy mumbled, wrapping his arms around him. Although there was a shy grin in his face, he hid it in H's shoulder. There was still so much to ask and know, two years was a whole book he had no time to read. He couldn't afford to be insensitive, especially when he too was breaking down at the gaps of the time he lost. "I'm sorry…" 

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I'll proceed to do a dance and shimmy out of here (someone mind telling me how to spell skada-idontknowtherest?)
> 
> Please give me clout thank u
> 
> This has been added to Wattpad. Yes, I know. Cringe, whatever. So don't worry about stealing
> 
> Also, I'm disliking this very much but imma pog through the pain because :)


	8. Fire and Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 2,119 «
> 
> [Important note at the end.]

The sun was still in its early stages when they finished feeding the pets and grooming them. He wondered how those two years had been like that, if H taught them to behave. He wondered if that was time he would never get back. Eret, Niki and Tubbo, surprisingly with Tommy, came by again. The tiny house was packed now, even laughter seemed to calmly return to normalcy. And to all, the familiar feeling was filled with dust. An old book that was tucked away finally seeing daylight once again. How uncomfortable yet necessary things to have back. 

Together they walked to camp, where they would have breakfast together like usual. It was one of those times where it became obvious that they were split, amicable with cracks too big to fix. Instinctively he held H's hand tighter, what had their world and friends become? 

Breakfast was usually quiet and gloomy, just like when he walked through the DSMP. The silence was screaming things he wasn't paying attention to, his own questions were part of the mess too. Even lingering ghosts of their laughing remained, lost in a place that wasn't home. His face ache with the need to smile, just like back in H's place. These people were friends at some point, now mere beings that fell from each other. He let go of H's hand, instantly missing the touch of someone else. He understood the lingering, everyone was reaching for every moment together yet always unable to walk past the line of guilt and apologies. How ironic, both funny and sad, that even with his return things would never quite be the same. He didn't want to think about it. Two tears was a long time to be gone, and there was plenty to fill in. 

He walked to Wilbur, seeing a man he had never seen. 

“I’m kinda sad you didn’t spend your first night back with me!” Wilbur made a drama out of nothing, making light of the situation, and ignoring the elephant in the clearing. What he said was true, to an extent at least. He smiled when everyone was looking, the murmurs and hush voices falling quiet now. “I thought that you’d come running back to me. I hope that you’d at least miss me.”

“If you keep that up I’m running away again…” Fundy frowned, rolling his eyes at Wilbur. They laughed, and he did too a while after. He shook his head slightly. 

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll be doing any of that any time soon,” Dream spoke with a tinge of mockery in his voice. 

"Sounds like a threat to me," Fundy smirked with a vague gesture. He glanced at him, joined by Sapnap and George. They looked very changed, he couldn't quite pinpoint. "Anyways, to questions."

"He's Philza, your grandpa."

Fundy narrowed his eyes, then shrugged. The maths didn't add up. Nothing ever adds up, truly. So whatever. 

"Cool. I will inquire later, if I remember."

"Next question?" 

"Where's Schlatt?" 

Wilbur froze. 

He would be lying if he said he hadn't been thinking of that name for ever, and it would have been an even greater lie if he said he could answer. 

_From the afar, he could see fire rain down. He began breathing ashes. To think that one day they lived together with friendly fights and petty arguments. To think that the DSMP and L’manburg were the biggest splits. To think that a tyrant could break what was shattered. To think that betrayal and backstab wasn’t enough. They never learn, they didn’t before._

He blinked, his son standing in front of him now. Yes, it was him. In flesh and bones. The scenery wasn't a burning forest, and the air didn't taste like ash. The sky was clear and the birds were singing their songs. He looked at his hands, clean with no trace of blood staining. 

_When fire began raining, one too many bridges were burned to mere memories. His footsteps printed the ground with ashes as their ink. Many footsteps, that were not his own, were lost and many were clashing. War was inevitable, internal wars were unstoppable._

"Are you going to tell me or am I to assume?" Fundy chuckled, shaking his head mockingly. He gave a vague gesture, then waved the question away. He sighed, rolling his eyes. There was no answer still. In Wilbur he saw a familiar face, a deja vu of when he first denounced him as a father. How long had that been? "Well, whatever. Nice talking to you, Wil. Nice meeting you Phil." He gave Techno a nod, receiving one in return. 

"Is that how you talk to your elders?" Phil grinned, shaking his head. He patted Wilbur's back. 

Fundy raised a brow. 

"Uh, well, sorry, I guess? I haven't interacted with anyone for two years, according to you all." He massaged the back of his neck with an awkward smile. "I just want to know where Schlatt is. I have questions."

_War is inevitable._

His body was aching. His hands were shaking. The breeze was sharp. His lungs filled with the remains of the past, forcing a coughing fit from him. He was choking with an illusion, trembling with a memory that was not his own. 

_And where there were ashes, there was once a fire._

Phil got up, worried. H, Eret and Niki rushed to his side. 

The sky was orange with ashes falling down. There was screaming he couldn't tell apart. Bodies around him suffocated him, blurry faces invading his personal space. His body instinctively moved away, shielding himself from them and their burning touch. He wanted to hold H's hand, or hear Eret's voice. Maybe walk with Niki or Tubbo. His ears were ringing. Images of the DSMP and L'manburg flashed with fire. 

He couldn't think straight, his shirt too tight. The people around him, faceless and voiceless. Their words weren't audible, only good to make the ringing louder. He blinked, trying to get rid of the illusion. 

He stepped back. 

Then he ran. 

He ran away from them. He ran to somewhere he didn't know, guided by impulse. His footsteps echoed, and it sounded just like when he ran through Eret's castle with him giving chase; except the chasing steps were thunder to his ears. The air was so warm, flames running alongside his own uncontrollable run. His face was warm too, wet with tears he couldn't control. There was no time in his life where he had control, what a thought. 

A root put an end to his run, catching his foot to bring him closer to the ground. The thud was loud, not helping his aching head one bit. He groaned from the pain, but the fire had stopped. In its place, the remains were cold and lonely. A mirror of himself. 

He got on his knees and hands, the pressure still keeping him close to the ground. The sky was back to its blue color, and his mouth could only taste metallic. His body was still trembling, while the wind gently brushed his body. Shivers. 

When he looked up, there was a pond. He got closer to peek, now seeing his own face. Ever since he got back, he had been staring at their faces for a long time. And he didn't even realize. The wrinkles and bags on them. It was only two years, yet it was long enough for them to change that much it seemed. Now he stopped to look at himself, finally paying attention to what he'd been ignoring. When he went to snoop in H's room, he could see it in his mirror. He was not changed at all. Although his body could clearly feel the hole in those two years, he certainly did not look a day older. Funny how no matter what he did, he was always behind. 

Footsteps approached, no need to look at who it was. Indeed it had been two years, but the footsteps were engraved in his memory. The things he didn't get to have were becoming more and more with each piece of the story. And everything else were the things left. 

"Are you alright?" 

He heard his grandpa ask, his voice so different from Wilbur's. He wondered if really it was his grandpa, or if there was some form of adoption in the middle. Again, the maths never added up in that weird family tree. 

He didn't answer for he didn't know how. 

Eret and Niki got closer, not too much; he would've felt her gentle hands on his back. He couldn't look at them, scared that he'd see those faceless beings again. Their voices, he remembered them better. 

"Is there something you are not telling us?" 

There it was, Eret's certain statement, hitting right in the nail. It always surprised him how people knew each other like that. Maybe the little facts were the things that brought them closer. For example, Niki loved baking bread more than anything else, Tubbo had a boat with his and Tommy's name engraved in it hidden somewhere for when they would go explore, H loved fried chicken sandwiches and he was great with pets, and Eret, well Eret was still dealing with his traitor's guilt. 

Traitor; a person who betrays someone or something, such as a friend, cause, or principle. 

Funny how he became one too. 

"Fundy?" Eret called. He was worried, they all were. His initial judgment was right, Fundy was acting all too casual for everything that happened. Now he was seeing it all come crashing down, and he's not prepared. 

"One question."

Eret looked at the others, looking for help. They were all in the same boat, and he prayed it didn't sink. 

"Yes?" 

"Did we win?" 

"Win what?" 

Fundy smirked to the ground before turning to see them. Like he had imagined, Eret and Niki were the closest. Tubbo, a little behind them. Phil and H furthest. How ironic, yet obvious pattern. 

"Who is president? Do we even have one?" he asked. 

"No, Dream and Wilbur decided to not do that again. No one rules over anyone."

"Did they all agree?" 

He thought it over, quickly recalling everything. He shook his head, making him give a questioning look. It was a devastating reason, it destroyed their home after all. 

"Look at what happened with the elections. Any sane person would want to avoid all of that." 

"Can you tell me what happened with Schlatt?" 

"He got what-" 

"He deserved? Then why am I not punished? What about Tubbo? Quackity? George even? Hell, what about Wilbur?" A sudden rise of anger got the best of him, his fists falling on his sides. He wasn't angry with them, he didn't know who to be angry with. 

They didn't reply. How could they explain that? It wasn't like they hadn't thought about it, especially Tubbo and Eret. So many days waking up with guilt and going to bed believing that they did not deserve to be walking free. 

"It's different!" He said mockingly, making fun of himself. Only Eret knew he had planned to be a spy; infiltrate and defeat Schlatt from the inside. He hurt so many people. He knew he deserved the consequences Schlatt got, even worse. "Is it really? I don't feel like it's that big of a difference, really!"

"That's not our call to make…" Eret replied, his body tensing. He didn't want to believe him, even if he already did. He looked at Tubbo, who looked just about ready to run away from there. 

"Who's is it? Wilbur? Dream?" 

"Do you dislike being back?" Phil asked, effectively quieting him down. He didn't like seeing him withdraw, it was a sight he had seen so many times in the three boys he watched grow; the relation was certainly there at least. 

"I despise feeling like I don't belong."

"Will talking to Schlatt help?" 

"I don't know."

Phil nodded, thinking and weighing the options. He knew his sons, and he knew bits and pieces of everyone else. But the person in front of them was still a stranger, someone he knew nothing of except for the rare mentions of him. It pained Wilbur to talk about Fundy, so the topic was never forced. Yet, he wished it had; that was something he would never say out loud. So it was understandable and complicated to feel pity. 

"Niki, can you come with me?" He asked, doing what he knew best; pushing everything aside. He got up, refusing to look at anyone that was not her. He didn't hate them. Still, he didn't know how they felt about his return. 

Relief was one thing.

Being forgiven was another. 

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! There was no update because I got exams, and because I didn't plan out the chapters correctly. Anyways, here's the update. The next couple of updates will be of similar length, if not longer. So yeh. 
> 
> Also, do yall prefer how the spacing is right now or do would it be better to have more spacing? 
> 
> Secondly, this work has also been published in wattpad under the same name because clout is good, and I like clout 
> 
> Third, Philza. That's all. 
> 
> Fourth, like in wattpad, I'll be giving out phrases or hints/ clues for future reference in the notes. But they are not crucial so don't feel like you need to read my rambling :) 
> 
> {Heard alcohol does wonders to the heart.}


	9. Comfort...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 1,946 «
> 
> [Haha, update go brrr]

_The moon was giving everything a soft glow. He couldn’t help looking at his hands, dirty from dirt and whatever else he was doing that night. He was too tired to remember, probably something to do with building or breaking. The subtle blue glow was so pretty. He smiled at it, his face having forgotten what happiness was._

_Knocks on the door broke his trance, the urgent call of a familiar voice rang. The door swung open, Quackity standing on the other side. He stared, the glow making him look so pretty and highlighting his miserable state._

_His house wasn’t designed for more than himself, although he could have arranged something but there was no motivation to build anymore. And he didn’t want to let him sleep on the couch. So after crafting a bed, and moving his own, he placed the bed in his room. It would have to do, not like they spent a whole lot of time in the house anyways._

_Or that’s what he initially thought._

_He didn’t mind Quackity staying over. Whatever for his friends. He had two shoulders to cry on, for anyone that may need it. Quackity needed it, so his stay was the last of his worries. However, it became alarming that his friend was spending a little too much time inside. Not like there was anything to look forward to, that he knew of anyways. Still, it would be nice to get him out of the house sometimes. Last thing anyone needed was another shut-in, and really, it didn’t help with morale._

_“Take a walk with me,” he murmured quietly. Quackity looked up from the window, looking so tired even if he knew he hadn’t done anything. It was depressing, and it hurt to see him like that. “Please? Some fresh air will do us good, I promise.”_

_Reluctantly, Quackity agreed. He was thrilled, and he kinda failed to hide that away. He left him to freshen up, putting something together for breakfast. It was a little over four months, two weeks since he talked to Tommy. He didn’t go through with what he promised, fear pulling him back the second he was about to confront anyone. It was anxious to do nothing, yet doing anything made things worse. And how could he bring it up to Quackity, especially when he saw him wearing clothes that were not sleep-wear after so long. He couldn’t._

_“I don’t feel hungry…”_

_“Just take a bite… I’ll get you some treats from the village! Please?” He smiled, but calmed down later. He grabbed the back of the chair, a little anxious about it. He perked up when Quackity hesitated then sat down, picking at the food a little. The smile from his face was drowned away, or he tried to at least._

_They ate, with Karl giving a little filler chat. He talked about other things from the DSMP, even some about L’manburg. There weren’t many details about the search, nor that he should mention any of that. When they were done, Karl quickly put things away to wash later. He grabbed Quackity’s hand, gently pulling him out._

_Niki jumped a little, looking at Fundy then at her hand. She saw his hand, holding her own. It was comforting, a touch she didn’t realize everyone resulted to at the end. That very morning, when she walked to H’s place with Eret, Tubbo and Tommy who stayed with them. It was an instinctive reaction, to hold someone’s hand to feel safe. Eret didn’t mind._

_She gave him a gentle squeeze._

_The day was good, a little windy but good. Alright for a walk. He stayed by his side, taking in the peace of the morning. He hadn’t had time to see anyone, but taking care of someone he cared about was worth it. They could take it slowly, there was no rush for instant change. After all, everyone was grieving too._

_“How are you feeling?” He asked softly._

_“Tired… I don’t know…”_

_“Do you want to rest?”_

_“No… I’m fine.”_

_Karl nodded._

_Like that day, he managed to get Quackity to go out more. Most days were just walking around, away from the DSMP and L’manburg for the sake of their sanities, other days they would go exploring a little further. Some days they would go mining and gather resources. He didn’t care, at least they were outside._

_Still, the thought was at the back of his mind. He saw Tommy every now and then. Neither engaged in conversation, knowing that they were still not moving from where they left it. Action was needed, but it was hard to find the timing to do so._

_One day, when they were picking flowers to decorate the house. The poppies were so bright and beautiful. A smile came to his lips, and for a moment everything was at peace._

_“Karl?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Is there something you want to tell me?”_

_He looked up, gently putting the flowers down. He turned to see him, cross-legged, mirroring him. They faced each other with patience in the middle of a flower bed. Bees were buzzing and birds chirping. It was a good day._

_And maybe the only good day to tell him._

_“Remember when Tommy talked to us a month ago?” He asked, testing the memory of that day. Of course he remembered well, he made a promise he was not able to fulfil right away. He remembered watching him walk off, he remembered Tommy’s desperation. He remembered how long it took to get him out of the room again. Still, it was long ago yet that day hurt._

_Quackity nodded._

_“Well, hm, I’ve been thinking about what he wanted us to do. Do you want to know what it was?”_

_He nodded again._

_“He wanted us… Not us, you… He wanted you to go talk to Schlatt.” He spoke, awkward a little. He panicked when he saw him sad. “You don’t have to! I mean, uh, well, it was like a suggestion… You don’t have to…”_

_“Will you go with me? Or… even get George to come with me?”_

Karl tapped his leg repeatedly. He looked up, seeing them with some worry. Niki had the same face of everyone when he told the story, not changed. Pity. It was hilariously hurting. 

“Do you think I did good?”

Niki smiled softly. “Quackity is so lucky to have you.”

Karl nodded, thinking a little. He was able to smile.

The things laying around suddenly made sense. Doubles of everything. He didn’t want to snoop, but he did when Karl and Niki stepped out to discuss something. The place really looked like it was filled for two, completely different from H’s room. Funny how places made for one person were turned upside-down to fit company. It was adorable.

“Does he stay over often?” He asked innocently.

Karl got flustered, in a good way, he hoped. 

“Yes! He does stay over often. It’s fun to live with someone.”

“Cool.” Fundy was happy for him, it was true after all. “Anyways, you know where Quackity is?”

Karl tilted his head, confused about the question.

“Hm, I’ll finish the story with Quackity.”

“That’s going to be troublesome to fill in?”

Fundy shrugged, he didn’t care much about it. He could always ask to fill in the details later, questioning was never an issue. Again, he didn’t care much about details just yet. Just the story.

They walked together to the camp, where everyone was just doing their own thing. After having a chill afternoon where they were recalling another piece of the story, seeing quiet and calmness was normal yet uncomfortable when remembering how things were way back. He waved at Bad and Skeppy. He didn’t remember much interaction with them, so maybe he could go hand out with them for a bit later. Yes, he needed to do that with many people.

He heard Quackity, Tommy and Tubbo screaming, making him cringe. He was almost doubting going to them, and Niki’s apologetic look was funny. 

As they walked towards the sound, Ant and Sam walked the opposite ways. His ears were in a defensive position, without even realizing it. Their paths crossed, exchanging waves and smiles as they did. When he walked past Ant, their tails tangled for a short second. He turned to see him acting as if nothing.

“Something happened?” Niki asked a few steps ahead with Karl.

“Oh, nothing…” He shook his head, giving him one more glance before returning to their walk. 

Karl and Niki talked about some mundane thing, that he forgot to pay attention to. It felt intentional, like he wanted to get his attention. He glanced again, seeing those two joining Bad and Skeppy. They were so nonchalant and enjoying their friendship, as if no war had happened. When he caught himself staring, he shook his head and looked away. Still, his morbid curiosity was greater. The screaming was getting louder, but he paid no attention to it. He glanced a final time, his eyes meeting Ant’s. The striking electric shock was ignored.

“Quackity!” Karl called with a grin so big.

Quackity looked up, stopping the mess, and he got up. He sprinted to him, hugging him tightly. 

“Yuck,” Fundy joked with an eye-roll. Niki gave him a slight slap in the arm. He smirked, and said nothing else. He let them be, avoiding looking at Tubbo also. It must’ve been hurtful to not be picked, but in the rush of the moment he only wanted Niki with him. He cared about him, but still.

Tommy, Tubbo and Niki chatted a little, while Karl explained the situation. He sighed, just patient about it. He looked around, it was almost time for lunch or the equivalent. Most weren’t there, but they would be soon. As cowardly as it may make him, he didn’t want to see any of them nor confront them at all. Especially Wilbur and Phil, or even that beautiful man hidden behind a mask…

He caught himself in awe, and of course he cringed. 

“Thinking of someone?” Niki joked, pulling his attention from whatever he was thinking about. She giggled when he reddened more than he was already. She smiled innocently, like the angel she was. 

He shook his head a little too quickly, a little too aggressively. He turned to Karl and Quackity, seemingly having finished their discussion. Karl gave him the thumbs up, and he debated if to go alone or with someone. At the end, he thanked Niki and decided to go with Tubbo since he could assume what the next piece of the story was about. 

They chose to go somewhere else, most likely meaning that they would miss lunch with the others; not like they were in the best spirits to be with other people. Tubbo was falling behind a little, doubting if to go forward with it all. He knew what came after, and even after all that time he hadn't been able to come to terms with it. He hadn’t forgiven himself, not like anyone needed to know that. But sinners knew each other, and some nights he could see himself in Eret’s eyes.

He glanced back, scared. Deja vu of those days were brought back. Tubbo never belonged at Schlatt’s side, and every day it surprised how long Tubbo stayed so long. Nights where Tubbo wanted to leave, escape from it all. And he wanted to encourage him to do so, majority of the time at least. Those other times he wanted to keep him there, because he was selfish and he didn’t want to be left alone. 

Before realizing, he went to hug him.

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I got a calculus exam on Monday (which is in roughly 9ish hours). I wanted to make the chapter longer but I can't.
> 
> Also, can yall comment something? I like replying as the characters because it's fun :[ Of course, not mandatory
> 
> [Comfort... And Alcohol?]


	10. And Alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 2,222 «
> 
> [Word count is a pleasant coincidence]

_Somehow he was walking towards Schlatt's place. The last time he saw him was when Wilbur confronted him, and he hadn't even had the guts to look at him. Yes, he realized the terrible things Schlatt was doing and planned to do. But it still hurt._

_It hurt to know, to accept that he was being used._

_George and Karl were by his side, their stride nothing like his own. He was shaking with every step, his lungs failing to do their job. He didn't want to go. He was a coward. He couldn't face him. Not yet, not ever._

_"You don't have to do this, you know," Karl broke the silence._

_His eyes widened, looking down at his hand holding Karl's hand tight. He looked up, seeing his 'nothing' s wrong' smile; but behind it he could tell he had hurt him. His grip eased, tensed then completely let go of him. Maybe it was the nerves, or maybe because they were drawing nearer, but his mind could swear to have seen a sad glance._

_"We are here," George announced, and in his voice he was also trying to assimilate the situation._

_He looked at George, seeing the same guy that was running from presidency just months ago. The same guy he trusted, the same guy that slept in through the election. And no matter how much he tried to let it go, he couldn't. Infinite were the nights where he laid awake, staring at the ceiling with silhouettes of the life that they could've had if they had been together during the elections. Nothing would've happened, had they been together. And it was bitter, like the thousand drinks he began having ever since._

_George knocked, since no one else would. He stepped back, glancing at them. There were no words to explain. Regret was eminent and prominent._

_Shuffling and the sound of bottles were heard before the door creaked open. A wave of alcohol hit them at once, suffocating and depressed. The man at the door was a reflection of it._

_He gulped._

_"What?" Schlatt barked. He was in a sour mood, being woken up from his sleep even if it was nearing midday already. A smirk creeped its way into his lips when he saw who it was. "What a pleasant and disgusting way to start my day."_

_"It's midday," Karl interjected when silence began setting. He stepped forward when George and Quackity backed down. "We just wanted to talk. The sooner we get this over with, the faster we're out of… whatever business you have going on…"_

_"Talk? I don't do 'talking'."_

_He panicked when the door began closing, his body moving forward before his head could think it through. His words also escaped, not fully understanding them until they were out._

_"Please!"_

_When he realized, his face went red in response to Schlatt's victorious smirk. It's okay, he repeated in his head. It was for Karl, and Fundy, but mainly for Karl. One way to repay him for everything. Yes. That's all. He had nothing to prove to himself. He wasn't worth the forgiveness. Karl is the only good thing he had in life, the only good thing that mattered._

_"Very well," he spoke in a condescending manner with his usual smirk. "But only with you."_

_His eyes widened again, turning to see George make fists and Karl step up quickly. He looked back at Schlatt, unchanged and unintimidated. Nothing had changed. Schlatt hadn't changed, and with the passing of time he wouldn't either._

_"If that's an issue, we can call it a day."_

_"You don't have to," Karl said, putting a hand on Quackity's shoulder. "Don't force yourself."_

_"Well?" Schlatt spoke, stealing the attention again._

_He turned to look at them again, seeing them ready to jump and fight. And fighting was the last thing they needed. He gave him a nod, receiving a sly smile in return. Shivers ran through his body, Karl giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze before he followed Schlatt in._

_The door closed behind them, he could hear Karl and George murmur things he couldn't hear. He sighed, nothing to do about it now. The place hadn't changed at all, except now there were a thousand bottles laying around. From the most expensive ones to cheap one Schlatt claimed to hate. His steps were careful, pushing the bottles aside, clearing a path in case of whatever. Time and time again, things just never went like they should._

_His nose wrinkled with the smell of alcohol mixed with dust and time. It was so different from the fresh air. And the company was different too._

_"Make yourself comfortable," Schlatt said in a mocking tone. He himself cleared his own seat from the bottles, the glass clinking and one even breaking. He paid it no mind, even when Quackity flinched. His hand wasted no time to reach for another bottle, something fancy for the occasion. He poured a glass for him, extending it as an offering._

_"You know I don't drink."_

_"Loosen up."_

_His hand reached for the glass, taking it from him. He stared at the drink in his hand, the cause of so many nights of fighting and arguing; and Schlatt knew. With care, he twirled the glass and watched the alcohol wet the inside of the glass. Mesmerizing yet it made his stomach turn._

_"You wanted to talk. Then talk."_

_Schlatt was first to speak, breaking his trance with an almost panic attack. Schlatt's glass was half-empty already, his own just warming up with his sweaty palm. So many words were running through his mind. Most demanding things he should've seen sooner; being used broke a person, and Schlatt took pride in doing that in levels that no other could think of. His other hand gripped his pants tight, tension building up quickly. Too quickly to process. He wanted to know why he was treated like a second thought, like a step, like a tool when he was the only one that ever supported him. He wanted to know why he was led on, why he was given mere crumbs when the initial plan was to be left in the dust. He wanted to know what gave him the right to treat another person like trash._

_He wanted to know if his feelings were ever considered._

_But he wasn't ready for that just yet._

_"We know you had something to do with Fundy's… sudden disappearance. It's about time you begin talking." He spoke, trying to remain level-headed, but his voice betrayed._

_Schlatt's laughter was bitter, with some kind of pain he had never heard. He looked up, seeing him pour himself another glass. There was something lonely about the place, bathing in darkness and dust. The bottles were the only company, pieces of them resting in places of impact. He could almost see it; he had seen it before after all._

_Some mornings Schlatt would wake up, drown himself in another bottle of whatever, then he'd head to the office. He would smell the alcohol before seeing him. And lately, George stayed behind longer than usual. Of course, he would try to calm him down, to distract him with anything, and sometimes he'd have to struggle a bottle from his grasp. Then the alcohol would rain on the carpet. Icy words would be thrown before any snow balls. Bruises would begin to spring before the flowers. Finally, in the heat of the moment Schlatt would rage and he'd stay loyal; stuck in a cycle._

_After Tubbo left, Schlatt wasn't good. When he left, Schlatt wasn't stable. With Fundy gone, he could only assume._

_Mornings became nights, and nights became unbearable without a drink. His life was spent drinking himself away, withering himself to a state of no return. He saw it happen again and again, and every time he tried to help him. Because even after everything, he couldn't help but care for someone who did not reciprocate._

_"Where is Fundy?" he asked again, firmer now._

_But he was talking to Schlatt, and he would've had his way without him having his way too._

_The familiar smile returned._

_"Drink with me."_

_And he did._

_With rage and impotence running instead of his boiling blood, he could only hope to drown it all like Schlatt did. The first glass burnt his throat, and he didn't even care about the mocking face that tyrant wore anymore. He grabbed the bottle from him, feeling it lighter than expected. His own glass became heavy with the refill, the alcohol singing it's drunk song with tormenting chuckles as backing vocals._

_On his third glass he didn't mind the burn anymore. The alcohol even offered its fake confidence as an excuse to enter his system. He kept the bottle, making him fish for another._

_"Where's Fundy?"_

_"Does it matter anymore?" he laughed with bitterness._

_It was funny, how contrasting it was. Even Wilbur laughed with the same bitterness. To lose and be the cause, directly or not. Who knew?_

_Well, supposedly the drunk tyrant sitting across._

_"It does to you, apparently," he mocked with an eye-roll._

_"And to everyone else, apparently."_

_"Jealous? Never knew you'd be that type."_

_Schlatt slammed the glass on the table, surprising that it didn't shatter. He didn't flinch, barely reacting to it truly. The alcohol was doing wonders, and for the first time in his life with it he was glad. He looked at him, getting all worked up over a comment so insignificantly obvious to anyone. He took a sip of the bottle, daring him to whatever antics remained._

_But he was surprised to see him walk away, to his study if he recalled correctly. He continued drinking alone, imagining himself as him for a second. His body hurt to even suggest that, a headache making its way to the front._

_"What are you looking at? Need a hand?" He got up, tired of waiting. He made his way to the study, welcomed by the same sight. Bottles with dust. Except now there was a torch at least._

_Schlatt pulled some mistreated papers out, shoving them to Quackity's chest. He smiled, almost proud to find them in the mess. Like the saying, there's an order to madness; just an excuse really, he couldn't care less about it._

_"A map? Is this where he is?"_

_"Wouldn't know."_

_"You have looked for him…"_

_Quackity smiled at the map, drawn on with alternative paths and calculations. He glanced to see him frown with embarrassment, or maybe alcohol; he hoped it was the first option, and it most probably was. A smile curved on his own lips, laughter coming out before he could stop it. Schlatt, claiming to not care, very much cared. Still, it was bittersweet to know it was for Fundy. And he was selfish because deep down he wondered if it would be the same if he had been the one to 'disappear'._

_"I sincerely couldn't care less what you do with your time anymore," he began, still looking at him. "But one last thing."_

_"You need more?"_

_"You have to come with me."_

_"Oh, no, no, no. There's no alcohol in the world, nor nothing that could ever make me go with you again. I'd rather die."_

_"Already are." He rolled his eyes, putting the map in his pocket, as neatly as a drunk person would anyways. "You owe this to Fundy and to everyone."_

_Before Schlatt could protest, he grabbed him by his shirt with feelings he had bottled up for so long. His knuckles were white, not like the gentle flame let know. He gritted his teeth, him shaking just slightly._

_"It's not up for discussion. Two days to clean your act up."_

_He threw him, not caring for tripping nor anything about him anymore. He wanted to punch him, really; but with a ray of luck he remembered the two waiting outside. For them, he wasn't going to break every single bottle he could see on him._

_In his rage to get out, he tripped and almost met the ground._

_But, cheesy as it was, he didn't._

_The sunlight hurt his eyes, and he disliked it. He fell on George's arms right away, finally letting himself be victim of the alcohol in his system._

_He was so out of his mind, and was practically dragged back. Still, he couldn't ignore the frowns George and Karl had. And most importantly, he noticed Schlatt's glared through the closed curtains when he clinged to Karl._

There was a pause, for Quackity to gather his thoughts before shaking his head. 

"He had a copy of the map he gave me?" Fundy asked, filling in. That single revelation was enough to make a disaster of the mess in his head, again. 

"Yeah… It's probably hidden somewhere in my chests."

"Let's call it a night, alright? I'm tired and hungry." Fundy announced, springing up in a single swift move. The other two followed, while he began making his way back. 

A little behind, he heard them talk in hush voices. The words spoken were painful to hear. A reality he had yet to let settle in completely. How convenient were his fox traits, and how he despised them sometimes. 

"Have you seen him at all?" 

"You know we are not allowed…" 

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I wish I hadn't posted the previous chapter yet. But whatever. Continuation goes brrr
> 
> Send Quackity lots of hugs
> 
> Wonder who will Fundy be seeing in the next chapter :)
> 
> {Pretend that didn't happen}


	11. The moon and the stars make a smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 992 «
> 
> (͒˶´⚇`˵)͒

By the time they returned, dinner was being set up. They hadn't even realized the sky had darkened, too invested in the story; or at least that's what they thought of the other. Tubbo excused himself and ran to Tommy. Fundy could see him, being scolded or something, but Tommy could never be mad at Tubbo; not before, not ever. He and Quackity walked a little more, before Karl and Niki came to view. He gave him a shoulder pat, telling him that he needed to do something. A lie, but one more never hurt. 

He heard Niki calling his name, but he continued walking away. He wasn't hungry, lately he hadn't been hungry at all. As painful as it was, he avoided everyone he saw just acknowledging them with a wave or nod. If they didn't give chase, it would be perfect. 

So he walked and walked, and deep inside he was running away once again. It would be easy to just confront them, Wilbur or whoever, but he couldn't bring himself to. He was angry with himself. He had no right to pretend there was nothing wrong, that he was just listening to a story pieced by everyone. He was supposed to learn and understand what had happened those two years. But he didn't want to. 

Somehow, he ended up back where it all began. The DSMP was desolated, nothing but ruins left behind. Still, it was a much nicer place than the camp they had going on over there. If only he could just come return in time he'd learn to appreciate everything that he had. Losing was always a teaching lesson. And there were things he'd trade away to just not have to think. 

He climbed to the communal area's roof, careful to not fall in one of the many holes there. Weather with time made it a true course of bravery, with its now slippery surface and frail structure. He turned into a fox, curling into himself. He hadn't done it in ages, barely even remembering the last time he had turned into a fox. Probably to steal something from Eret or to show Niki and Tubbo, but at least that obviously happened before the disaster show. He never turned into his animal form unless for a good reason, which were still unclear. 

He always hated feeling small after all. 

The moon was beginning to peek, making a smile with the stars as eyes in the sky. He stared, captivated by beauty beyond comprehension. It was always the simple things in life that he took for granted that made everything better and worse in equal shares. 

His ears perked up, the faint echo of a step bringing his body into alertness. He waited, attentive for any sound that was not natural. Another thud. 

He got up, with the grace of foxes, jumping from one place to another looking down. His search could've been anyone or anything, hostile mobs were out by now surely. The crafting table with their fading marks, decorated with dust coverings looked intact. Except for the steps he could tell weren't his own. 

On the furthest corner, where the chests collapsed he found the cause of his worries. A body no bigger than his own, climbing the chests clumsily. He let his eyes adjust, until he could clearly tell it was a pig. He jumped down, getting its attention. 

They stared at each other for a bit, before the pig sat down and he did too. He tilted his head, trying to understand how a pig had even gotten there when the place was abandoned. Not like it was surprising, but it was. Anything alive was. 

He got closer, sniffing it like any animal would. Any trace of any smell could help. Wheat usually meant there was a farm, and therefore a village. Smoke or ashes too. The smell of sweet berries or dirt usually meant it was a savage animal. On it, he couldn't get any trace of any of that. He sat in front of it, their eyes meeting before he poke its nose with his own. 

The pig replied with a friendly oink, then gently headbutted. His tail wagged, picking up the dust from the floor and making them sneeze. He made a friend. 

Together they climbed up again, mainly Fundy helping his new friend up. A pig and a fox, resting peacefully on the roof, bonding with the stars and the moon. He peeked at his friend, eyes reflecting space and its vastness in a place so close. He looked up too, the sky smiling down on them. 

He curled up again, closing his eyes to rest. The night hadn't even settled that long ago, and he was already feeling tired. There was still so much to do, to gather. Two years of his life he'd never get back, two years he had to hear from someone else. It was tiresome to pursue, and it was draining to assimilate it. 

His eyes opened, a pink body with a moonish glow blocking his view of the moon. It pressed their noses together, before laying down close to sleep. He closed his eyes again. Being close to someone else always helped ease his head of worries. 

Chirps and songs in the early morning woke his body up. Not long after, his eyes lazily peeked to see the anarchist without his crown still asleep, his red cape wrapped around them. His face went slightly colored, surprised to still see him there. He stared at his resting face, almost like staring at someone else. Neither had ever been big on being emotionally open, so this little interaction was for them only. He didn't care about not being able to flaunt it to anyone and everyone. 

The morning was early and warming. He could spare a couple more hours before resuming the chaos. 

For the first time he hadn't felt small as a fox.

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehe
> 
> Smile :D
> 
> Chill chapter because I failed (exaggeration) my back-to-back calculus and biology exam
> 
> [It's going down. I'm yelling...]


	12. Fox and Pig Stalked By Local Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 532 «
> 
> Miau

Before saying their goodbyes, he stopped to ask about Schlatt since no one seemed to want to give any concrete answers. Even in the short time he knew Techno, he knew that directness was a beneficiary skill. He asked, rather bluntly. There wasn't much beating around the bush, and the camp was getting closer with every step.

Techno stopped with a chuckle, his axe appearing in his hand. He stopped too, a few steps in front of him. They faced each other, and he watched him swing the axe so effortlessly. A menace in his right. The axe bit, sharp enough to reflect the morning sun, graze his neck so closely and carefully calculated. His gaze went up, looking at him face to face, gulping. 

"Listen, I know you want to see Schlatt, and I get it, you have questions and he has answers. I don't know why you are so obsessed with him, because it's kinda weird to go look for him when Wilbur is still waiting to talk. Anyways, not my family problem, well, it is but whatever. I get it, the trauma and all those feelings. Must be hard to deal with." Techno rambled a little, shrugging and gesturing vaguely, everytime bring the bit closer or further from cutting. Even though it was easy, Fundy could've just stepped back, but where's the fun in that? His grip on the handle was secure, and he never attacked unless a reason was given. Funny, how that could change so quickly in such a short time. 

"Uh, I'm both terrified and- Intrigued! Really! Hah, man, you give great talks. Maybe next time we can don't have to include the axe?" He smiled nervously, raising his hands by his side to appear innocent and not a threat. "Techno?" 

He called, panicking a moment when he saw him pick up something. His beating-heart was deafening, but soon he heard the sound too. Sticks breaking and dry leaves crushed under weight. His ears perked, twitching in curiosity of the direction of the sound. He didn't even notice the axe swinging away. It had been so long he didn't remember the footsteps. But he knew a hostile face. 

"Who's there?" Fundy asked, knowing Techno wasn't one with words when it came to attacking or the likes. He ignored his sword, choosing his axe just because. On his right, Techno's left, came another sound. "You don't want to anger the Blade, just saying." He threw that out, in hopes to scare whoever it was. 

Silence. 

They stared at the spot. Fundy glancing at Techno, unsure of what to do. He was about to open his mouth to speak again, but Techno was much quicker. The arrow blazed in flames was gone before he saw the enchanted bow. It hit close to their intruder, for more noise came. 

"Warning shot," Techno declared. He already had another arrow ready, the string tense. 

"Don't shoot," a voice called out, the body following after. His walk was graceful, calculated. He raised his hands, with a mocking smile. He studied the two in front, knowing them very well. His eyes gleamed with curiosity and mystery. "Cats only have nine lives after all."

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but I feel like people didn't like last chapter with Techno. I wanted to draw fanart of that, but guess it'll have to wait :[
> 
> Well, now I'm adding Ant (spoiler if for some reason people read the end notes before anything). 
> 
> It's furry take over :]
> 
> Hint continuation from last: [So, like, I'm kinda glad you're alive, I guess?]


	13. All There's To Do Is Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 3,139 «
> 
> I don't want to have a note here because it disturbs the reading, but I wanted to say that any comment is a good comment. And feedback is appreciated. I will literally reply to all of the comments because I have that kinda of time right now :]

Fundy lowered his axe, while Techno put his bow away. Ant had his hands behind his back, his tail swaying a little more eager than his face let see. He saw the smile on his face, Techno wearing a frown. Something was between those two, and it wasn't his business; but he was about to make it his business. 

"Rivalry?" he asked innocently, taking a step closer. Ant chuckled and Techno looked away. A fox, a pig and a cat having a chat; just one more and it would have been a party. "Why were you following us?" 

"I wasn't," Ant purred with a wicked smile. 

On the surface level, he didn't like him very much. He remembered last night, when their tails tangled and the electric shook he got when their eyes met. He didn't like that very much. Fox were slick and wicked, well, cats were worse. And by his judgment, Techno knew that too. 

"I heard you wanted to see Schlatt. And Techno here doesn't want to take you."

"I didn't say I wasn't going to."

"Were you going to take him? Against Wilbur's and Dream's order?" 

"They don't rule over me."

"Seems like they have, for some time now, actually." Ant offered a sympathetic smile, fake as they came. He turned to Fundy, giving him a more genuine smile. 

"I don't like this." Fundy frowned, unsure of the situation. He saw the fists and the smiles, not very hidden details. 

"Well, too much talking and not much action. If you can get him to take you there, I can take you inside."

"You don't know where it is?" 

"Only three people know where it is. Dream, Wilbur and me." Techno answered, with a little rush. Somehow, he didn't want Ant to speak. Not jealousy, really. Jealousy was the least of his worries. "Three know how to get in. Dream, Wilbur and Sam."

"Four!" Ant exclaimed, proudly boasting. "Are we going or are we getting breakfast? We can't do it all right now."

"You are not supposed to know where it is."

"Are they the boss of you? So much for taking down the gover-" 

Ant stopped talking, cut off by the bit threatening his neck. He raised his brow at him. 

"We will go after breakfast."

Techno lowered his axe, still glaring at Ant. He swung it over his shoulder, walking to the camp without another word. There was little to no need for confrontation. Still, very few people were able to push his buttons. 

Fundy watched him leave, speechless. He didn't want to bother him further, but he didn't understand the tension between those two. He looked at Ant, seeing him calm and collected as if nothing. He wanted to ask, but he didn't know what the question could even be. 

"Quite the temper, wouldn't you say?" 

"Uh, I don't think so?" 

"Heard someone's looking for you. Seems it'll be like that for quite some time, huh? If I were you, I would find them. Sounded urgent." Ant shrugged, not really letting know the urgency. Yes, he claimed urgency but his nonchalant tone didn't match. He just smiled, watching him unsure of where to go." Oh, by the way, when you're done, look for Techno. He didn't get to finish his talk."

Ant gave a final wave before going back into the camp, not waiting for an answer. Not like he had one to give. 

When he walked through the camp, his appetite was gone again. He couldn't look at their faces without feeling like a stranger, even if he wasn't one anymore. Many times he tried putting himself in their shoes, wondering how it would feel to not see someone for two years straight. Especially, he wondered how it felt to not see someone for two years when they left in rocky waters. 

Wilbur sat so small next to Phil and Techno, so colorless next to Tommy and Tubbo. Still, he couldn't bring himself to talk to him quite yet. He hated him, despised him and denounced him as a father. Whatever it was that they had when he came back, when they were hugging and crying, it was no more than a mere flash of the past. Because after all, there was nothing left to salvage. 

He continued walking, finding the people who he openly wanted to see, after giving Tubbo a friendly wave. Niki sprung up, a relieved smile flowering on her face. Eret barely caught the plates she sent flying. He ignored her worried questions for a bit, noting that H, Karl, and Quackity were joining them for breakfast. Odd, but not the worst thing. Then he was able to listen in to her, even if he missed the firsts words.

"Ant said you were with Techno. Please don't worry us like that." She said, trying to put on an unbothered smile. 

"Uh, yeah, sorry." He made an apologetic face. She dragged him down, to have breakfast of course. Pumpkin soup and bread. The smell was amazing and he had no doubts of the taste, but he still didn't have an appetite. He picked up a spoon, then set it down again. "I'm actually not that hungry…" 

"I would at least eat out of respect for our chefs," Karl said in a cheery voice, while giving Quackity a gentle shoulder push. He had a smile, like usually. "They worked very hard on this. Personally, I would never give them kitchen duties ever again but they did a pretty good job."

That was a funny thing they added. Since there weren't any more 'sides', they were supposed to work together. Duties were split, and it rotated each day. His name hadn't been added to that list yet, and it was funny to see how long he could go without doing any work. Efficient system, or whatever. Now everyone relied on everyone, unlike before; where it was on their own for the most part. Still, it meant that work was a requirement. 

"So who?" 

"Quackity, H, Sam, Ponk, Punz I think too?" Niki replied, biting her spoon as she tried to recall. "Oh, and Sapnap too! Interesting combination."

"Disaster combination!" Karl added. 

"We tried our best," H defended with a playful frown. He glanced at Quackity, who was also faking confidence in the work they had done. No matter how long passed, the kitchen would forever be a quest. 

Fundy chuckled, giving him a playful shove. 

"Thank you but I don't want to die yet," he said, taking a bite of the bread. Not bad, Niki's was better. 

Breakfast was uneventful, if judged by their past selves. They were laughing and being loud, even louder than Tommy and Tubbo some meters away. And they didn't even notice having a good time, nor did they notice the nostalgic glances the others were giving. For a moment, brief as it was, things were normal and nothing had ever happened. No war, election, split, nothing. No nothing. Just a bunch of people being friends. 

He teased H a little more, satisfied that it was him put on the spot and not the other way round like always. Then he got bored, turning to Eret and questioning when he would try his cooking. It was fun, poking fun at them for it. That's all that mattered, having fun while he was there. 

He ate three quarters of food, under peer-pressure of course. Not bad, then again he had been spoiled by Niki's cooking. He was surprised to remember that, especially since the last time had been long before he betrayed her. Still, now he looked forward to lunch even if he most likely wasn't going to take part. 

Niki and Karl left for dish duty, alongside Bad, Purpled and Tommy. Tubbo followed Tommy, even if he hadn't been on rol. That was a more pleasant group, except for the last. He hated that gremlin, on a surface level; and another level but that was reflection for another time, maybe when he was drowning in desperation. 

"So? What's the plan for today?" Eret asked, glancing over at the fox. He trusted that after two years, Fundy wouldn't be reckless anymore; even if deep down he didn't want him to change at all. 

"Uh, I have to talk to people. Fun, huh?" 

Eret chuckled with a shrug. 

"It do be like that sometimes."

"Are you going to see him?" Quackity asked in a quick whisper, scared he'd be heard. He looked around in paranoia, a habit he couldn't stop. 

"Uh… Well…" He couldn't help glancing at Eret, not for help for once. He saw the questioning look on him, making his words back down. "Uh… Should I not?" 

"Fundy!" Techno called, drawing some attention from those who stayed behind. For once, he didn't care. Not even Phil's questioning look made budge. 

"Gotta go. Talk later!" Fundy got up quickly, before he could be interrogated. He ignored the looks, and let himself be led away by him. Ignore and run, things he became used to doing anyways. 

No one dared follow, since it was Techno they were talking about. They got a little into the forest, not too far. 

"Was there anything else you wanted to say before? You know, before Ant cut us off." He went directly for what Ant had said, giving pause to the rest of his problems. 

"Doesn't matter anymore."

"Feels like it does?" 

Techno sighed, weighing his options.

"Look, I don't want to involve myself too much. But Wilbur really wants to talk to you. I know he's done wrong but he's still a good guy… deep down at least."

Fundy narrowed his eyes at that, the implication brought up once again. He remembered well. In short, he hadn't left in a good moment. Tension was building up and the damp they built to keep it all in was cracking. It was a matter of who and when. Endless nights where he'd wake up with his maniac laughter, echoing through his bones and settling in every inch of his life. How could someone so composed and collected could break down like that? He gave Schlatt credit, and also despised him. 

Yet in a way he was grateful to that spiteful man. If it hadn't been for him, he would've never been forced to accept that he had long lost his place as Wilbur's priority. 

"Is that what you've been telling yourself all this time?" Ant asked out of nowhere, startling them. He smiled innocently, his tail swaying so gently like the breeze brushing their faces. 

Fundy's own tail became hesitant, too aware of the delicacy and elegance of a cat. He looked at Techno, who simply frowned and looked away. No matter what, he needed to find what the deal was between those two. Curiosity killed the cat, and good thing he wasn't one. 

"He's not a good man, Technoblade. You know that very well. It's morbid, to put it in words, how we all believe that." Ant continued, his tone dripping with a hiss and sharpness he could see in Techno's axe. The sun was high above their heads, the heat had no ground against the heat of the moment. Fire, that's all he could see. All he saw. He turned to Fundy, tired of hidden honesty from someone so biased. "Do you think he's a good guy? Do tell, Fundy. Do you believe your father is good?" 

That caught him off guard. Techno glanced, and turned to the cat again. The memory was vague, the day their rivalry began was blurry, buried under another thousand. Something was clear and consistent, they both saw a fire that was not their own. A fire so uncontrollable and hurtful, blazing everything in its path, making ashes of the world mirror of their own. It wasn't their fire, but the burn marks on their bodies were real. 

"Answer!" he exclaimed, making Fundy flinch. Like Techno, judging by the look of discomfort, his arm began with the so familiar burn. Fundy stared in confusion, no words coming out of his opened mouth. He had words of his own, cut off by the sharp tinge of heat. 

He didn't know what was going on. Techno dropped his axe, fists tight on his side. He could see strain on him, sweat beads slowly making their way down from the forehead and sipping through the collar. Ant wasn't any better, his tail and ears were flickering to every sound and movement. There was pain in their eyes, a feeling that was so familiar yet alien to his bones. He was ready to ask, stopped by them falling to their knees in synch. The words left his mouth, his head was empty. He didn't know what to say, nor what to do. His eyes flickered between Techno, then Ant. Then back at Techno, then Ant. Repeatedly. 

His body moved on its own, kneeling next to Techno since it was the closest. He looked him over, feeling his forehead and face, he pulled away quickly. It burnt his hand, but it was not a fever. The heat was not natural. It was a temperature no normal being could ever produce, not even those in the Nether. 

Ant wasn't any better, except when he touched him he saw a glimpse so familiar. When he pulled away, his head wandered distracted in search of the memory. When he asked Wilbur about Schlatt he saw fire too, an illusion that choked his physical body. He had ran away when Phil tried to help, remembering how their touch burnt his body too. Screams and blood. He had seen that already. The second time now triggered by Ant. 

By the time he had made that connection, Techno and Ant were on their feet wiping the sweat from their faces. They looked so tired, as if they had ran or fought; or whatever, he didn't have many clues to go from. He got up too, studying their heavy sighs and tired expressions. 

"What was that?!" He asked abruptly, careless and tactless of what they had gone through. Suddenly he was too aware of eyes and ears, before they were everywhere snitching their every move to others. Now, in the quiet of the forest, it felt worse. "What the hell was that?! You scared me! It's- What- Are you alright?" he asked finally. 

"Did you see the fire?" Ant asked, exchanging a glance with Techno before focusing his attention on Fundy. He had felt the spark, which was the thing that brought them back to reality. Funny, how even with their rivalry they were connected on a level that they couldn't explain; nor escape from. "It's been a long time since I saw it…" 

"What's that supposed to mean? And yeah, I saw it. Not the first time. The other time was when I had, sort of, a break down in front of Phil? I think it was the same fire…" He confessed, not seeing any aid in hiding it. Regardless of how crazy it sounded, it wasn't the most outrageous. "Anyways, what's that to do with anything?" 

"Weird, huh?" he replied simply.

And like nothing, those two were back to their selves. Fundy opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted. 

"Let's go now. Before they start looking for us." Techno announced after putting his axe away. His hand lingered on the handle a second longer, somehow finding comfort in being armed with it. He didn't know what he'd do without it, and he wasn't about to find out. 

They walked in silence, Fundy gave up on asking. There was nothing he could do. Techno didn't look like he wanted to talk about it, nor did Ant. Deep down he knew they knew more than they let know. They had two years to figure it out. He had had only a minute apparently, in the time that it took him to crawl out of that time-pausing hole on the ground. 

The map was still neatly tucked away with other of his things in a chest in H's place, too bothered to carry all of those things around. He hadn't looked at them since he came back, nor did he show the items to anyone. If Schlatt was willing to corroborate, he would bring them to him. Until then, things that needed explanation kept piling up in his head. Soon he would have to begin making a list, a written one to remember them all. 

Far from the camp, in a secluded area, they stopped at a hill with a river running alongside it. He saw fishes lazily swim through the calm waters, it made him wonder of a certain salmon. He shook his head, following Techno to the top of the hill. A hidden button, behind some rocks and weed, opened an entrance with stairs leading down. The image of the ground opening beneath his feet came back, giving a small panic attack. 

"I can't- I…" He stepped away, hyperventilating. Ant kneeled beside, fanning with some blank papers. After some minutes he was calm again, enough to face the ground where the entrance was. "Sorry… I guess falling through a hole in the ground is not that forgettable."

"Don't force yourself. If you can't go down now, there are other times."

"No, it's fine. I just need to…" He began, with a sheepish look. The ground was only half the size of the hole he had fallen through, and he was sure there were stairs in this one. So there was a way out, and he was with friends. He inhaled, and exhaled deeply. He reached over, and grabbed Ant's hand. "... hold someone's hand for a bit."

There was no room for judging, not like holding hands was a break-through. Techno pressed the button again, the entrance opening. Ant leading down, followed by Techno. He wasn't feeling too anxious, not when he concentrated on Ant's hand and mentally repeated that there's a way out. He sighed, coming to terms with the place, remembering it wasn't like the other. 

They walked down, illuminated by torches on the walls. The stairs spiraled down, ending in a small decorated room. Even with the connotation, they didn't shy away from decoration. But the biggest eye-candy, images and patterns carefully engraved in the 4x4 iron door. He couldn't help but reach out, his fingertips drawing over the art. There was no dust, and the door looked recently polished. It was beautiful, and it served a purpose. 

There was a combination on the other three walls; a mix of buttons, levers, hoppers and pressure plates. Ant went through the combination easily, like second nature. With the final button, the device hissed and the door creaked. A temporary steam cloud rushed out before the door slowly opened to the side, giving view of a corridor. 

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm officially done with my exams, which mean no more school until next year. Poggers. That means I now have time to publish a chapter every two days, or every day again, (no promises though) and chapters could be long (not more than 5k words since I don't think anyone would read that, but I don't promise there might be a chapter with 5k words.)
> 
> Also, I'm still working on some lore stuff and nothing's set on stone yet. Things could change, or not. I'm working on that 
> 
> Lastly, pls give clout ty <3
> 
> [Take a seat, or don't.]


	14. A Piece of Outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 2,736 «
> 
> cw // Schlatt 
> 
> Oh, because this needs saying. I know the issue that's come up with Schlatt again in Twitter, and I am aware that what he did is wrong. However, I cannot speak on behalf of anyone because it is not my place. 
> 
> I do, however, have to speak on behalf of the character I am writing. The characters I'm writing are those of the Dream SMP, but are influenced on a interpretation I need for a story. I have to spoil a bit of the story by saying that no one is either good or bad, that's up to interpretation that will be based on information I choose to release.
> 
> In simpler words, the characters are for a narrative and do not reflect the content creators. I cannot 'delete' Schlatt from my lore without having to remake everything. And no, it's not my excuse. Please don't take it as such.
> 
> I know I'm being vague, but like I said; it's not place to speak. I can only say that it's wrong, and that it needs addressing. That's all. 
> 
> Continue reading if you like. If not, it's fine.

The blackstone brick walls were polished with dusts, even if the room wasn’t. He followed Techno, the blackstone rough under them. The blue lanterns gave a soft glow, stealing his attention away from the place. He stopped, staring at the lantern and its dancing blue flame. It was mesmerizing and soothing, unlike the yellow and red flames that blazed them before. 

“I admire your dedication to details, but we got an issue at hand right now,” Techno interrupted with a light chuckle. He tilted his head slightly, wearing a teasing smile. Fundy flustered, shaking his head. “Let’s get moving before I regret bringing you two here.”

At the end of the corridor, they came face to face with another room. Techno pushed it open, holding it for them. Fundy went into the room, while Ant lingered with a mischievous smile. He frowned, not liking where the interaction was going. Ant was a dilemma, and he had no desire to understand it; not yet at least.

“I feel like we should talk,” Ant said in a hush voice. He glanced at Fundy, admiring the room and trying to figure out the code for the next room. A smile curved as he turned back to Techno, the door closing behind him. 

“There’s not much to discuss between us.”

Ant hummed and shrugged, turning away. A soft ‘maybe’ escaped his lips before going to solve the puzzle. 

The door opened with another hiss, a bright light welcomed them to an artificial paradise. Robust oak trees with flourishing leaves and shiny apples, a lazy pond, bushes and flowers decorating the dirt. A piece of outside, underground. There were even fishes swimming, and the chirps of birds couldn’t be hidden in the branches. It was beautiful, until their eyes felt on the stone walls surrounding as far as their eyes could see. Stone walls, barely hidden behind vines from the top raining down. Suddenly it wasn’t paradise anymore. They looked up, seeing hardened light blue clay replacing the sky and white hardened clay as a cheap clouds replacement. Ant stepped down from the stairs, taking the view in like the other two. A sense of dread masked their faces.

“What is this place?” His words were barely audible, his eyes interchanged between Techno and Fundy many times. Techno mustered a ‘I don’t know’ while Fundy could only wonder. His guess was as good as his. “Let’s find Schlatt.”

They walked together, closer now. Techno was in front, with the other two following. Fundy held his cape; the past resurfacing from a corner of his memory he thought he left behind. 

Night had fallen. Two tiny bodies followed the imaginary path that should’ve taken them home long ago. Pink hair always stood out against the browns and greens of the forest; maybe the yellow sweater was in solidarity. And even in the shadows, they seemed to shine through like targets. A little tug on the red curtains they had stolen that morning made his steps stop, turning back to see worry. He let him hold his makeshift cape.

“It’s a little too early for lunch. I just had break-”

Everything stopped. The steps and the talking, meeting with silence in the middle. Fundy bumped into Techno’s back. Ant gulped, taking a step back. The three stood side by side, facing one changed man.

“Schlatt?”

“Who else?”

Fundy swallowed his words, fighting the urge of everything. Instead, he took the remaining steps to fall to his knees. 

“Oh…”

Schlatt’s arms were heavy and weak, his frame smaller than he remembered. The tyrant was not so imposing anymore, almost making him hate himself for wanting to punch him. He hugged tighter, even when he hated his guts. Like Wilbur, he was just under the influence of missing him. Even when he had never had any contact with Schlatt before, he missed him; not like he’d admit openly. 

“So, like, I’m kinda glad you’re alive, I guess?” Schlatt spoke when Fundy pulled away, his own body reaching for a lingering. He hadn’t had any contact with anyone in who knows how long, not like he was going to admit it. “Welcome back! Or something like that…”

Fundy chuckled, wiping the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Depends.”

“Um, well,” Fundy glanced at the other two too before sitting down, “so, what happened after you gave Quackity a copy of the map you presumably gave me? Okay, so, kinda weird thing I’m doing. I’m trying to understand what happened when I was gone, asking bits and bits from everyone.” Schlatt narrowed his eyes. The same thought ran through his head; not efficient but that’s how he wanted to do it. “Yeah, yeah. Judge me later.”

“Take a seat… Or don’t.” The last thing he said was in regards to the other two, glancing at them. 

Techno and Ant sat too, giving them space.

_After Quackity left, he was left in the dark surrounded by bottles. He went to finish the bottle in a single setting, standing next to the seats that were previously filled. This place of his, abandoned as if he wasn’t living there at all, was so eye-tiring. There was nothing he had personal affection for, nothing and no one. With the remaining alcohol running through his body, he called it a day even if it was barely midday. With alcohol, days and nights blended in anyways._

_Like any other time he woke up, darkness surrounded whatever room he was in. Bottles rolled down when he got up from his seat, a part of him wishing to see him sitting across. But he wasn’t there. No one had been. His body moved on its own, entering his study before his mind could even process what it was that he was looking for. Through the mess of papers on his desk, he looked for a specific paper. One he’d been coming back to time and time again. The ink had been rubbing off the worn out yellow face, the tiny drawn compass in the corner wasn’t pointing in any direction anymore. It wasn’t there._

_No matter where he looked, it wasn’t there. Through the piles and the mess. Desperation settled where the dust used to be. His eyes searched again and again, maybe he wasn’t looking correctly. His head was dizzy from spinning, trying to find something that wasn’t there. He stomped to the windows, kicking bottles to shatters and spilling whatever contents remained, his hand grabbing the curtains and pulling them. A cloud of dust filled the room, his body turned away from it; and from the light he hadn’t seen in months. Light inundated the room, giving life to colors he couldn’t tell apart in the dark. There was no time to admire a place he grew to despise, a place he was detached from. He went back to the papers, crumpling and throwing those he didn’t care for without giving a second glance._

_Before he realized, he trashed and turned the place around. Blood was slowly running down his arm from a cut from a broken glass, not even realizing until it trickled to the floor cutting the silence. He didn’t care. He let it be, slowly realizing where his precious treasure was._

_Slow, maniacal laughter echoed._

_He collapsed to the ground, on top of papers and pieces of glass, holding his injury. His hand stained with crimson while his study colored with bitter laughter. He’d given it to Quackity the day before, of course. He didn’t have it anymore. That map._

_That stupid map._

_Time passed before he was sitting on the living room floor. Except sunlight and cold air slid in through the broken glass, the curtains ripped from their place. He’d even ripped a piece of his own shirt to tie around his arm, already tainted with his blood. He hung his head low, staring at the floor spin while his fingers painted the bottles red. The liquid was warming against his touch and the sun, not a single drop was missing from the open top._

_Another gush of wind blew his hair, tangled with time. He looked up, in time to see the door knock down bottles and other things near it. It took a second longer to see who it was, no words came out when he saw who it was._

_Not a single word was spoken while the bottles filled the bags. Steadily, space came back to the crowded room. With the majority of the living room emptied, they moved to the study. Time ticked with each glance at the papers, uncrumpling them to crumple them again. A small pile of papers rested on the now empty desk, the others filled a box entirely. A warm orange light mixed the colors again, soon dimming down as the flames of lanterns came to replace it. They moved the bags to the living room, careful to not rip it with the broken pieces inside. While he tied the last bag, he glanced to see Schlatt undoing the rookie bloodied bandage._

_He hesitated before going to fetch some bandages he saw in some emergency box, then kneeled in front of him._

_In silence, he let him clean and treat the wound._

_After that was done, there was no reason for him to stay anymore. So, dreaded goodbye loomed. There was no reason for him to be there, no reason whatsoever for helping clean the mess. Even the windows he had punched or broken with items were replaced. He wasn’t owe anything, especially after causing Fundy to go missing for a couple of months now. They were nearing the six months mark, if his alcohol-influenced memory didn’t betray. Funny, how someone could just up and vanish without a trace like that. It wasn’t his plan at all, it never was. And with some influence of hidden liquor, he spilled incoherent confessions._

_Well, not entirely incoherent._

_By next morning, he woke up with the same hangover of any other day. Except, he expected to be alone; which he was far from being that morning. His companion woke up not long after, with the sun rays on his face since they hadn’t thought of putting blinds up. Then again, he wasn’t expecting to get wasted on the living room. Then again, he wasn’t expecting company to stay over; even if it was under the influence of alcohol. Without saying much, they cleaned up the mess of last night and continued with the rest of the place. He couldn’t bring himself to stop and ask why, because he did not want the answer._

_He didn’t want pity._

_With the bags out, disappearing after a couple of minutes, they could focus on the actual cleaning. The windows were opened, even the door, preparing for the dust curtain to close the show. The bandages were changed while the floors were drying. And after everything, he began seeing colors he hadn’t seen in a long time. As the sun began setting again, they sat silently watching it happen. Neither saying a word, just enjoying being able to breath air without dust for once._

_Until, of course, one had to speak up._

_“Quackity told us you’d be going with him, and I don’t believe for a second that it was by your own accord,” he spoke, wearing an innocent grin. He looked at the sky, painted so orange and in turn everything else too. A chuckle escaped too. “Well, I don’t suppose you really want to go. Humour him, will you? Just until they come to terms with what happened.”_

_“Come to terms?”_

_“It’s been six months,” he said simply. He got up with grace, pushing his chair back without a sound. The grin on his face remained, not so innocent now; not malicious either. He headed to the door, grabbing his things as he did._

_Schlatt’s eyes open wide with the thought, rushing to his feet too._

_“For the sake of Quackity, and the rest of us, please do come clean about what happened. It’s time for the truth to come out.” He gestured vaguely, organizing some things from the table next to the door. He glanced, offering condolences and not much else. “Please, don’t look so distraught. You’ve probably dwell over it already, so I’m not going to pretend to be hopeful. It’s time to move on, even if it means ending with a bang.”_

_He pulled his goggles, adjusting them to his eyes before heading out the door. Letting it put a barrier in between them._

_When morning came, it was a whole day he went without a drop of alcohol and he began withdrawing. His hands were shaking, just wanting a drop in his system. Just a little was enough. Just…_

_“Schlatt!”_

_Quackity’s voice echoed, ringing a second longer in his ears. He stopped, weighing and timing one more drink before he left. His bag, with all necessary things, was packed the night before. He could’ve just grabbed it and leave, that way he’d make sure to not drink. But he wanted to drink. He needed to drink._

_“Schlatt!”_

_Quackity called again, more agitated now._

_He glared at the door. He could simply not go and drown in his addiction, killing himself with it. Maybe he’d even go to the other side and not worry about it anymore. If he had the strength to, he would. But he only had a bottle of cheap liquor. He took a swing, feeling it burn like it had been so long since he drank._

_“Took you long enough.”_

_There, in front of his place stood Quackity with Karl and Sapnap on their side. George was there too, a little behind and more hidden. He smirked, putting a show, trying to keep his head from killing him. Not long after superficial pleasantries, another voice called drawing their attention towards that direction. Wilbur, accompanied by Techno and Dream. To that, he couldn’t help but laugh. Those three were trouble. He didn’t have proof, but had zero doubt._

_“I see it won’t be just the two of us, dear Quackity?” He asked in mockery, wearing his smirk like usual. There was a spark of satisfaction in seeing him flinch, yet it all vanished when Karl and Sapnap muttered their support. He made fists looking away in pride. Instead, he came face to face with Wilbur, carrying a backpack too. “Field trip! Lovely.” He said with fake enthusiasm._

_Karl and Sapnap gave their final encouragement, while Techno gave pvp tips. He couldn’t help but be disgusted by the affection._

_But George was staring at them too, until Dream approached him. Interesting, yet unsurprising. He saw George frown, while Dream seemed to become more intense with his words. A smile creeped on his face as he watched him hiss something, then left a not very pacifist Dream behind. That was something._

_“Let’s go,” Wilbur said simply._

_Like always, when Wilbur spoke, people listened. They went on their way, walking side by side with more than enough room for someone to walk in between them. Quackity kept glancing back, sweating a just about ready to sprint back aura. Wilbur was confident, his steps quickening just the slightest. He, on the other hand, didn’t have much to look forward to. The images from just seconds ago were taunting. To have someone to come back to, he could only imagine what that was like. and he couldn’t imagine how it felt for everyone when Fundy didn't come back. If the search was still ongoing, even without the hope, he could only assume that they actually cared. Even after everything they still cared about their friend. Even after everything, he couldn’t understand how Fundy hadn’t ran to daddy’s arms yet. Why wait so long?_

_Wilbur had asked for the map, desperation in his voice to get there quicker. There was no inch in his body that believed, not even for a second, that if Wilbur had the maps he’d run ahead with it. Quackity held that above his head, never once moving his ground. Not even compromising. Surprising that a push-over would dare, especially since it was Wilbur they talked about. He laughed, the third time Quackity shut him down._

_They had changed so much, since he last saw them. Well, before Quackity came to ‘confront’ for the truth. He didn’t care._

_Not openly at least._

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, imma just get rid of the hints because I don't want to think about them. Commitment issues coming through :)
> 
> Oh, and I'm also 'shortening' end notes just because (unless something comes up of course)


	15. Things that are unfixable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 3,033 «
> 
> cw // Jschlatt

_The journey was a long one, specifically made so Fundy could be away for a long time. By the time they reached the first checkpoint, it was dark already. Much to Wilbur's insistence to continue, they made camp in a disappointing cave. Even in the cold, they remained far from each other. Not a single word, that wasn't asking for the map, was spoken. Not a single thought shared, even if it meant biting his tongue to keep snarky comments from souring the mood further. The campfire's flames were dancing in the stone walls, so warm compared to the moon's light outside._

_Quackity was the first to throw the blankets over, turning away from them. Schlatt wasn't tired, nor was Wilbur. They stared at the flames, glancing at the other a couple of times out of curiosity. The smell of burning wood was somehow calming, in a weird way of course. Smoke was never good, but for once they allowed it to be good. After what felt like an eternity, which was probably an hour or so, Schlatt also threw the covers over; leaving Wilbur to stifle away in the loneliness of the night._

_The fire was out and the sun wasn't when he woke up. He glanced at the other two, moved by curiosity other than anything. Quackity was still fast asleep, holding the blanket tight while his other hand rested under the pillow. That was funny, to remember things that never mattered in the first place. Just like the fact that Quackity would always be the last to wake up, no matter who they were with; except George of course, nothing could ever wake him up. Or that he'd never be able to sleep without a sign of the cross before. Again, things that he never cared for; and aside from the usual tease, he didn't care._

_Or even Wilbur. That man was almost allergic to sleep. He'd never go to bed without a cup of tea or a good song. Sometimes he'd even sing it if he had his guitar, or just hum himself to sleep. He had to admit, Wilbur had a decent voice. And he could even count the times he'd fallen asleep listening to it, on purpose or not. Again, things that shouldn't have mattered._

_When he glanced at Wilbur, seeing him sleeping against the cold stone was a sight. It didn't invoke any feeling, it wasn't a new view anyways. And things made sense, some did. That bad posture, excluding the height and the disadvantage, was formed by bad habits. He saw him shivering, from the early morning breeze, the blanket having fallen._

_He didn't know why he fixed it._

_After a couple of hours, when the sun was high again they woke up. Wilbur didn't mention the blanket, even if he knew it should've been around his legs by then. Quackity was last to wake up, taking extra in doing whatever it was that he needed to do. And Schlatt, he was just sitting and packing things away._

_In silent agreement, they continued with the track._

_His arm was red from scratching it, unconsciously. He didn't notice until he scratched the cut that was still healing, drawing a sharp gasp from his mouth. His eyes widened when they reached the injury, his mind taking a little too long to process his bloodied arm again. His body stopped, just staring at his arms like it was alien from his body._

_Another gasp made him look up, to see Quackity and Wilbur with a mix of confusion and worry on their faces. He opened his mouth for an excuse, but there was nothing. How could he hide an injury like that after they have seen it already? He could only stand in place, like a deer in headlights. He remembered reading what deers were; again, things that didn't matter and should not remember._

_"That looks terrible," Wilbur spoke. He walked over, holding his arm to examine it. "Withdraw?"_

_'What else smartass?', he wanted to say but didn't. There was absolutely no need to let him know, of all people, of his living condition and addiction. Not counting all the other crap. No. No need for that. Even if Quackity already saw it, Wilbur didn't need to know. Unnecessary information._

_"I know you hate it when I help you," Wilbur said in a low voice. He kneeled, looking through his bag for bandages. When he pulled them out, he faced him. "I'll clean it."_

_Schlatt stared in disbelief. Of all the possible outcomes, this was the last he didn't even imagine. Quackity sat, taking the rest without the need to ask for it. And he only watched him work on his wound. His hands were rough and cold, his skin looked blue; or that's an illusion, not new so it wouldn't be a surprise. Yet, after all the work and roughness, there was still softness and care that made his stomach turn._

_How could someone like him exist? So easy to hate and admire._

_He hated him._

_And he wanted to hurt him. He always did. So far, he had done it. A spark lighted, awakening a fury he had tried to drown._

_He pulled his arm away, undoing and letting the new bandages float to the ground. Wilbur was taken aback. He took steps back._

_"I don't need your help."_

_"What?" He looked confused. "You've been standing still for half of it already. Just let me finish the bandage. It'll get infected."_

_"Are you not listening?” He rolled his eyes, gesturing at nothing. “Typical you. Never listening to anyone other than yourself."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"You know what I mean."_

_Wilbur stopped trying to reach, pausing his actions and his words as Schlatt glared at his arm. The breeze was sharp and cooling, he did not like the feeling one bit. But it was better, anything was better than Wilbur’s help. He muttered some choice words under his breath, finally looking up at him and his pitiful expression. He hated it. His face. His shy, insecure moves. He hated how small Wilbur could look, nothing like the man he wanted to tear down. He hated him. He hated him so much._

_“Don’t pretend, Wilbur. We both know how things really are.”_

_Something in him clicked, and he could clearly see it, like a switch flicked on. He took another step back, straightening his posture. No one could stand against Wilbur without looking up, that man towered over everyone; but he didn’t look up to him. No ounce of admiration, not even if others like Dream and Eret had for him. He didn’t have any of that, just spite._

_“And because we both know, you are going to let me finish patching you up. You can squirm, complain or whatever it is that you do best. But I’m not letting that arm get infected.”_

_He flinched. He glared._

_“I don’t need your pity.”_

_Wilbur took steps forward, not stopping even if Schlatt continued to keep the same distance between them. Then, without warning, Wilbur grabbed Schlatt’s good arm with a tight grip. Schlatt looked up, frowning in response. They stared, silent as unspoken words were exchanged. Seconds were an eternity, until of course Schlatt pulled away again. This time, Wilbur didn’t let go so easily._

_“We are not doing this.”_

_“Oh, Wilbur, I got the rest of our lives to do this.”_

_Finally, Wilbur chose a more aggressive approach. He met the ground, his good arm on his bag as his other arm was stung against the grass. He groaned with the pain, trying to free himself but failing at it. A sigh came out of his mouth, letting his pride slip away as Wilbur eased up._

_“Like you said, we got the rest of our lives to do this.”_

_At the end, Schlatt let his arm be patched up. Wilbur hummed a song he remembered, neither brought it up; even if unpleasant moments came up. With every good story, came another thousand bad ones. And with each burnt bridge, there was no more space to meet in the middle; not like he’d ever want to._

_Through the ordeal, Quackity stayed out of it; and it was better that way. Neither wanted to explain anything; and if they hadn’t explained anything to anyone yet, it was for a reason. Still, he wondered what Quackity was thinking. A bitter thought loomed over, thinking how he would run away to Karl and Sapnap if given the chance. How funny._

_And pathetic._

_“There you go,” Wilbur hummed with a smile. He looked it over, turning it to see his handy work._

_Schlatt pulled away one last time, getting up right away. He checked the bandaging, flexing and checking how tight it was. His eyes traced the lines, imagining a red undertone under it. Maybe that color would stick longer than he wanted, forever painting his arm in that crimson color. So much for pale skin. Wilbur handed a potion without effect, a replacement for the alcohol he didn't bring._

_He walked away, not even giving gratitude in return. But Wilbur didn’t need it._

_They continued walking, getting closer to their destination blocks by blocks. And soon, it was dark again. Another disappointing cave became their temporary hide-out, another campfire to warm their night. Wilbur shifted closer to Schlatt, under the excuse of checking the bandage. Ever since the incident, Wilbur had stayed closer and gave another potion with no effect. He didn't question why someone would carry that many useless potions. It was Wilbur after all. A right handed person needs their right hand after all. And he protested with snarky remarks and demeaning comments, but Wilbur did not let up. Another trait that was hated, stubbornness; although it seemed everyone in the DSMP had that. Having him over his shoulder was exhausting._

_“You don’t have to pull away from me always,” Wilbur muttered with a soft smile. He leaned back, the back of his head hit the wall. There was no view to enjoy, except for the light dancing everywhere._

_“Shut up,” he dragged his words with a groan, rolling his eyes. He shifted away, just slightly. But that night was cooler than the one before, maybe that’s why he didn’t want to be too far. Maybe. He let out a short bitter laugh. “Maybe…” he muttered._

_That repeated for three more nights, each time they didn’t drift apart. On that night, Wilbur’s head rested on his shoulder. He frowned, shifting a little but eventually let him. He took a swing of the potion. Those nights, he saw how little sleep that man could have._

_And for once, he didn’t want to sleep alone anymore._

_“Wanna sit with us?” Wilbur asked openly, catching their attention._

_Quackity stopped writing on his book, looking up with an awkward glance. “It’s fine… Don’t want to bother…”_

_“C’mon, it’s cold.” Wilbur gave a genuine smile. “You don’t have to sit with him. I don’t know who would sit next to him anyways. Such a grumpy goat.”_

_“You… You are sitting next to him…”_

_“I have many problems.” Wilbur kept his smile, always genuine._

_Quackity didn’t hide the smile from that, and hesitated a little. In the end, he put his book away and dragged his things over to them. He didn’t look at Schlatt at all, he didn’t have the courage to face him at all. He sat next to Wilbur, keeping a little distance for the sake of himself. They slept quickly, perhaps the quickest they’ve ever slept._

_The next morning, after climbing down a mountain, they found a clearing in the middle of a forest. Surprise, since the forest was quite thick; to the point of requiring to chop some trees down. Somehow, they didn’t burn it down even when the three agreed to. Funny, burning a forest was the only thing they had agreed to so far. The clearing was untouched, with nothing growing on it other than grass. They stood on the edge, unsure of the place. The map confirmed they were in the right place, and there was no trace of anything. Then again, after six months any trace would have disappeared._

_“Are you sure this is the place?” Wilbur asked, an uneasy feeling setting down where hope used to be. He walked over, looking over the map; his own eyes indeed confirming that they were in the place. For the first time, he held the map. The paper was worn out, the ink so light. This map was the closest thing to Fundy he’d been in six months. Six months of nothing. This stupid map could’ve brought him to Fundy so long ago. They wouldn’t have had to search again and again. They wouldn’t have had to suffer, grief and lose hope. They could’ve found him; if Schlatt hadn’t kept the map to himself._

_“This is all your fault!” He screamed, crumpling the map on his hand. He turned to Schlatt, fire burning everywhere. He should’ve burnt the forest done, he had the flint-and-steel with him; he always had it. He should’ve watched the flame eat everything in its way, maybe he could've watched it consume him. Maybe. “Why didn’t you say anything in six months?! You really didn’t want anyone finding out, did you?! You are despicable and hateful. I can’t believe you!”_

_“Daddy’s angry now,” Schlatt replied with a sneer. He didn’t look away from his flaring eyes, he was never one to do so anyways. He tilted his head, watching him approach with anger. Not the first rodeo. “Haven’t seen that in ages.”_

_“You-”_

_Wilbur’s words were cut off by a punch on his stomach, making his body recoil. He kept the groan inside._

_Schlatt was despicable. Schlatt wasn’t someone to worry about. Schlatt was a pitiful, power-hungry man that deserved nothing._

_Schlatt was the one who took Fundy from his side_

_The fight was a blur. So many punches were thrown, some missed too. They had a mix of dirt and metal in their mouths, the taste was sure to remain for sometime. Even when they didn’t say anything, so much was said in such a short time. Quackity didn’t intervene, and it was for the better; he’d only get unnecessarily hurt physically. They didn’t care for the scene. When Wilbur pushed Schlatt away, giving each other space to breath for once. Their breathing was heavy and uneven, their glares remained._

_“Is that all?” Schlatt spat, with another sneer. He held his hurt arm, all the healing was thrown away in the span of a blink. He suspected the cut had even opened again. That side was warm._

_“Can we not?!”_

_Quackity yelled, breaking their trance of each other. They looked, and his sudden courage went away. He stammered with his words, unable to look at them. Their bruised faces were a reminder of his own trauma, giving a slight panic attack that he could not control. He shook his head, trying to keep it together but his words kept haunting._

_He knew coming with Schlatt was a bad idea._

_Schlatt could see it._

_Quackity turned away, trying to calm himself down. Without Karl and Sapnap it was hard._

_Wilbur stepped away too, cooling his head even if his fists wanted to hit him more. He just wanted his son back._

_Schlatt remained in place, staring at the clearing in between them. He should've drunk to never leave with them._

_They didn't talk, all the progress they had made was gone. That night, they didn't make a campfire. They didn't watch the flames dance, they didn't even look for a disappointing cave. They went to sleep so fast, turning away from the other._

_Going together really was a terrible idea._

_Schlatt was the first to wake up from sleeping on top of his hurt arm. He messily undid the bandages, peeling them from the open wound. Dried blood peeled, causing a new flow. He threw them, watching his blood trickle and stain. It didn't hurt, not really. By then, he was used to the feeling. The scars from his scratching were healing better, some opened but they were better. To think that glass could do more harm than a punch in the face._

_He looked up when rustling came closer, seeing the tall silhouette he knew very well. A lantern was placed, its light dim, just to see enough. He let him redo the bandaging, neither saying anything. The touch was cold, and the wrap was tighter. He didn't mention it, he didn't care. In a few minutes they were done, so they could go their own way until the sun began to rise._

_He turned away, pretending to get back to sleep; this time careful of his arm. Some seconds passed with just the subtle gushing of the air. Then an item was placed next to his bags as the lantern was taken, and the body moved away. He reached over, the glass retaining the last warmth before cooling again. He sat up, watching the liquid move in its container._

_He took a drink._

_In the early hours of the morning, they were already up. There wasn't any appetite, the mention of food turned their stomachs. With no clue to continue on, they were left on first base again._

_"We should head back if there's nothing," Wilbur said, but his words were too soft and broken; they were filled with sorrow. The words were for himself._

_"What if there's something? Maybe we're not looking!" Quackity interjected, getting up quickly. He couldn't look at Wilbur, he couldn't handle the distraught of him. But Schlatt wasn't going to be any better. "We just… We just need to look. A bit longer. Maybe we missed something."_

_"Listen, cariño. I. Looked. Many. Times." Schlatt spoke, with a cynical smile. It was true. The map and other papers in his place were proof of it. He had checked, again and again._

_"Maybe you didn't look properly."_

_Something in Schlatt snapped. He lifted Quackity by the collar and threw him to the ground, like other times._

_Except it was the first time the ground under him opened._

_•••••••_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine the ground just breaking under your feet man :/


	16. On their way back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 2,095 «
> 
> Heads up, I'm not putting the cw // Jschlatt warning. His character is part of the story, can't change that. So just a heads up for it. Though I do believe that no one would be reading this if it were based solely on the inclusion or not of Schlatt

_"Huh, that's new," he said nonchalantly._

_"I'd be worried if the ground did that often, to be honest," Wilbur sympathized before he went to check it out. Quackity had fallen on water, now decorated with patches of grass and colored with dirt. There was no immediate damage, except for that fact that Schlatt threw him down. He ripped him another one. "What were you thinking? Nevermind. You don't think. But still! What was that for?!"_

_"Please don't fight again. I can still hear you from down here."_

_Schlatt chuckled, peeking down. Quite the fall and thank you to the water. Then again, he was thinking of jumping himself. Dying wasn't that big of a deal. If he respawned, he'd be away from them. Even, if he wanted to be extreme, he could simply just not respawn to save the headache. All that he needed was there, each word that came out of Wilbur's mouth was fueling his desire to just tell Quackity to get rid of the water. The fall could be high enough, he hoped it was. He was always a bad judge for distance._

_Wilbur placed a water bucket from above, waiting until the water reached the bottom to jump with a torch in hand. He splashed him, the water bouncing on the wall. The dirt and rocks dirtied the water, which was stale anyways. Six months was a long time for water. He pushed the patches of grass away from the walls, examining them. He ran his hands on them, trying to desperately find anything._

_"There's nothing," Quackity whispered just a little louder than the water splashing around. He put a hand on Wilbur's shoulder, trying to stop him from walking in circles. "Wilbur, there's nothing…"_

_"Do you think he died here? And maybe when he respawned he got lost on his way here, that's why his things despawn? The fall could've killed him." He spoke rapidly, his head making scenarios quicker than he could process them, much less say them. Desperation drove him mad, madder than he was. His son could be anywhere, and he'd have no clue._

_"What about the water?"_

_"I don't know… I don't know… Maybe… Maybe rain filled it! Yes! Rain. Has it been raining? No, we're too far from spawn. Maybe it was rain? It can still rain if we're not near, right?"_

_"I don't… I think I'll go up. I need fresh air."_

_"Yes! Good idea. Take a break. I'll continue looking."_

_Schlatt was sitting down, eavesdropping their conversation. Truly, Wilbur had many problems. One too many problems. He watched Quackity swim up, his face like he'd just seen a ghost; more worried for Wilbur than having just fallen however many blocks it was. He watched him with curiosity, wondering what the next move was._

_"Why did you throw me down there?"_

_"Truth be told, I didn't know it was there. Honest mistake. It happens."_

_"You said you checked this place before. How can you miss something so big? Are you hiding something?"_

_That got him to his feet._

_"Listen, cariño. Think what you want of me, I don't care. But don't think for a second that I would come all the way here just for some stupid 'prank' like this." He spat his words, watching him draw closer to the edge of the pit again. If he made him fall again, it would benefit his raging head. Just a little more. He could grab the things and leave, leaving them to fend for their own. He didn't care for them, so his conscience was free. But-_

_"Get him out, he won't listen to me," he spoke softly._

_He hadn't seen that side of him in ages. Seeing him defenseless and with nowhere to run; so easy to use, disregard and forget. Yes, he had used him long ago to get to power. That's all that mattered in life anyways, to get ahead whatever it took. Wearing him out was easy, a task he'd crafted chip by chip with every order and action. With every punch and kick, and poisoned word. And he had enjoyed it, being superior that is._

_But this time it was different. He didn't feel anything in seeing him hurt._

_"Get him out, please." He pleaded._

_Seeing Wïlbur trace every inch in his reach was pitiful. A man filled with desperation to find a son that was neglected. Pitiful, really. It made his head dizzy to see him walk in circles, enclosed to the pit only._

_"Come out before I cut the water."_

_"Just a second more. I'm sure there's something!"_

_Schlatt frowned, annoyed._

_He walked down, sliding down with the water. He landed on his feet, almost waved away by the spinning. He stopped him, seeing his eyes glued to the walls. The torch's fire was waving alongside the water, drawing shapes and whatnot on the walls. There was nothing, even if he was hopeful for a clue._

_Nothing._

_"Is this what you planned? To let him die in here? Alone? Is that what you wanted? Because you wanted to hurt me, you went all out just for that? Do you hate me that much?"_

_"Yes, I hate you, Wilbur. I despise you. I detest you." He began with a smile, at least he was an honest man. "But I did not want him to go missing. I wanted to hurt you. Yes. He was only supposed to be away a week, two weeks tops. I don't know what happened in the middle. I looked for him, just like you did. So can we please get out of here? The smell is making me want to throw up."_

_Wilbur chuckled, wiping his eyes with his wet hand._

_"Give me just a moment, okay? I promise I'll be up."_

_"One chance. I can't swim up by myself."_

_Wilbur laughed again, shaking his head._

_"Only because you said please before."_

_The way back was silent too, they still didn't talk. Except, it was okay this time. Schlatt hadn't made a fuss when Wilbur changed his bandages, and Wilbur hadn't relapsed again. Quackity, well Quackity kept to himself, but seemed a little more relaxed._

_He hated to think that they got something out of the trip, because they really hadn't got anything out of it. When they were back to the DSMP, they would return to how things were; Quackity would run back to Karl and Sapnap, Wilbur would get to get back to Techno, and he'd return to alcohol in a clean place at least. They would never talk about it, knowing each other. And it was better that way, because that's how things are._

_Somehow, they dragged the walk back longer. They made camp a little earlier each day, waking up a little later too. It was obvious, yet neither would bring it up. At the end of the journey, they would lock it up away and forget about it. No more 'caring' for the other, no more sleeping next to each other in the night, no more potion without effect that tasted not bad, no more whatever it was that they were having. And he wouldn't miss it either, because he didn't care. That's his biggest trait, not caring. He could lose it all the second they were back, and he wouldn't care. After all, they would hate each other's guts once they were back._

_Because he had done everything he wanted already._

_What was five days one way, became seven the other way. On their final night, so they'd be back by morning, was calming yet awkward. Spending almost two weeks with those two, just exchanging the bare minimum vocal interaction and more physical interaction, was a whole trip. Of course, he wasn't a good man that derseved to be treated like he had been. The injury in his arm was the only thing he deserved, and that wasn't even intentional. They did good in masking everything he did, ignoring it for a while. A terrible idea, but whatever._

_While looking through his bag, a bottle of something came to view. He hadn't noticed it at all, not like he actually looked at his bag throughly. He pulled the liquor out, admiring the writing shining with the fire. When he was putting it away, Wilbur took it from his grasp. He watched him open it and take a swing, making a face at the taste. The bottle was offered to Quackity, who took a sip without a second thought. Then it was his turn. Wilbur's face was justified, it tasted bad. The writing was a blur in his memory, but he had the feeling he wouldn't pick it ever again._

_The bottle went around as the sun finished setting, allowing the moon to contrast its blue light with the orange of the flames in their disappointing cave. The finished the bottle and headed to sleep, ready for the next morning and whatever came with it._

A hiss made them jump, all of them turning towards the direction of the door. They were far, but still stood up with their weapons in hand to whoever it was. Techno took a step in front of Ant, and in turn the other two too. He watched movement between the trees, raising his axe as it drew closer with each passing step. 

"Techno?" Wilbur raised an eyebrow, then he saw the other two. "Ant? Fundy? What are you three doing he-?" 

"How'd did you get inside?" Dream asked, stomping to the front. His expression always hidden behind his mask, yet his words were aggressive. He drew his sword, gripping the handle harder than needed. 

"It doesn't matter," Fundy was the one to speak. Wilbur looked surprised while Dream looked slightly down, he swallowed. "Hey, listen. I know we shouldn't be here but, like, what is this place? It's… crazy, to say the least."

"It's part of the agreement," Wilbur answer with an honest yet tired smile. It didn't match his eyes. 

"And we don't talk about the agreement."

"Secretive as always, Dream. Don't ever change." Ant purred, putting his bow away with a grin. His tail, tensed, swayed lightly now. 

Fundy could sense still that Ant wasn't compliant, just keeping the peace. He wondered why. 

"It's time you all leave," Wilbur announced with fake cheeriness. He pulled Dream away, now standing in front to appear friendlier. It didn't work, they didn't buy the show. "Okay, we will explain. Back at camp, okay? Let's just go. We don't want to worry the others."

"Splendid idea," Techno said with an air of something. Wilbur flinched. Dream just stared, maybe even glared. Ant agreed. And Fundy looked back at Schlatt. 

With nothing else to say, Wilbur left Schlatt's dinner with him and followed them out. Dream was last to leave, after making sure there was no one else in there. Ant let them do the codes, not wanting to let know it was him who knew it. He glanced over at Techno, both of them sharing the same thought. Fundy was still glancing back, avoiding being near Wilbur above it all. 

"How did you three get inside? I can figure out how you got here, but not how you got inside." Wilbur spoke, while Dream make sure to close everything behind them. He looked at Techno, his little brother, for an answer. But Techno had the ability to look back, without saying anything. Not helpful. "We're not mad. Just curious. We trusted that you wouldn't tell anyone, Techno. You know your responsibility to this place."

"Never said I couldn't bring Fundy here."

"You shouldn't have brought anyone here."

"What's done is done."

"Techno please…" 

"Let's go back, I'm suddenly feeling hungry." Ant said, almost like it wasn't an interruption. His tail was steady, and his ears paid attention to a certain someone. "Let's all go back," he said, putting special emphasis in 'all'. 

They agreed and no other word was spoken on the issue. Dream lingered behind with Wilbur, while the three of them were ahead. The distance in between enough for whispers, which were many; though they weren't ignorant enough to say them right then and there. 

The camp loomed closer, with the lanterns lighting the way back. 

Wilbur called Fundy over, making him stop. The other two continued walking after some words, and Dream left shortly too. He watched his son standing there, unchanged like the last day he saw him. A smile came to his face as he held him in his arms one more time. 

Fundy hesitated to reciprocate, but eventually did. 

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, double update? Pog


	17. Fish and Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 2,154 «

There was a spark of something in Wilbur when he pulled away from the hug. He watched the sparkles in his eyes, wondering how they could shine like the stars that began to twinkling above their heads. The subtle sound of the others talking was nice, almost home; almost. It was two years since he last saw his father. Two years he'd never get back, like the two years he wouldn't get back from his pets, with his friends, with everything. And Wilbur looked exhausted, even more than anyone else. He wondered, just for a moment, why that was in detail. 

They didn't speak, just taking it all in. Yes, they were standing in front of each other once again. Wilbur with wrinkles and bags Fundy didn't remember. To Wilbur, Fundy didn't look a day older. And slowly, that began to be the case; full of holes as it was. 

The night was cold, but gentle. It didn't push them inside, it just made the wind and leaves just twirled around. A show by nature they didn't have time to admire. Time, funny how before they thought they had all the time in the world to be together. Father and son, facing whatever that may come. And funny how that was taken away from them so easily, so quickly. Two years worth of time they would never get back. 

Yet, even the future looked grim. After all, there were issues left on the table. There were always issues. 

"We don't have to talk if you don't feel like talking," Wilbur started with a smile, rubbing the back of his hands. He had prepared for this talk. Phil had hyped him up, Tommy gave his blessings -whatever that meant-, and Techno was silently pressured for it. Long ago he prepared everything he wanted to say to him. He knew the list by heart; tell him how proud he was, tell him how much he loved him, how much he missed him. How sorry he was. How he shouldn't have ever left him. How he should've confronte Schlatt right away, how that could've prevented everything. He wanted to tell him how he remembered promising a nation for him, how L'manburg was to be his, and how that would never be now. And he could have told him all of that, had his heart been a little stronger for just a little longer. 

Fundy didn't reply right away, instead looking up to see the moon and the stars. He remembered admiring them when he was little, standing on Wilbur's lap and not caring about the mud on his boots. Or that thousand other nights where they would just watch, sometimes with a hum of a song, sometimes accompanied by the playful breeze. Nights when he had grown up, and slowly but surely they were drifting apart. When L'manburg became Wilbur's priority, even if it wasn't said outright. He could tell by the way his father would not sleep, planning himself to sleep or walking in circles until the soles of his shoes were worn out. And the hundred discussions with Dream, both sides demanding too much to ever reach a middle ground. He had grown tired of listening to those talks, he didn't know who those two were when they discussed. Those nights were especially lonely, with just the moon and nature as his companion. 

On those nights he would look forward to bothering and spending time with Eret. He never liked being alone, and Eret was a friend. The musical hums turned into laughter as they made fun of each other, pushing and shoving with the innocence of life. They would talk of anything and everything. Eret really helped to distract of his neglectful father. Up until the point of betrayal. 

He should go talk to him, for the old times. 

Like him, his father was also a good man; at some point. Trying to pinpoint when it all changed was pointless. It was so long ago. He could've let go, and he should have. 

"Let's go fishing," he said, looking away from the sky to see him. In the limited light Wilbur's tiredness and age became more apparent, more obvious. 

"Fishing? Fishing. Fishing! Yes! Let's do that!" 

For a second he saw the father he admired before, the one he looked up to when he still couldn't control his fox transformation. The man so eager to spend time, who would throw away everything just to be together. Yes, even the gleam in his eyes and smile was like looking back in time. He smiled fondly of the memory, watching him look through his inventory to see if he had all the materials they needed. A clumsy man, he remembered that too. The items were everywhere, but there was madness in the disaster. And he got that from him. 

"Okay, I need one more string. Wait here. Don't go anywhere. I'll be back before you notice." Wilbur said, avid of such a mundane activity. He sprinted into the camp, barely putting a foot in before turning back and hugging his son again. Lingering a much needed second longer. "I've missed you so much."

He laughed, watching him run to find a string. He didn't tell him he had some in his inventory, not wanting to break the moment they were sharing. 

He never really cared to fish. And it was quite unfortunate to fish, since there was the chance of getting salmon. He hadn't thought about her in a long time, Sally. Maybe one day, when things returned to normalcy he could ask him about her. Maybe he could even see a photo of her, or at least hear what she looked like. That would be good, yes, it would be good. Bit by bit he was honoring their memories together, so maybe one day they would honor hers properly. Maybe one day she would stop being just a woman without a face, and would gradually be mom. 

"See? Back before you know it!" Wilbur called out, running to him with both rods of hand. He noticed him glance away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. He didn't pry. If he did everything right, Fundy would come around eventually on his own. "I know a great place. Oh, it's going to look beautiful with the moonlight! I can't wait to show you."

Fundy walked beside him, something he hadn't done in such a long time. They were drawing away from camp, only three knew they were together. Thinking of that, he wondered of Techno and Ant; those two seemed to have some secrets, just like everyone else. In some odd way, he felt compelled to know of them, a weird connection having established not that long ago. He could ask Wilbur, with a little guilt trip he could possibly get some clues. But that could wait another night. 

That night was father and son bonding time. 

Their destination was a tranquil lake, with water so clear it reflected the sky with perfection. They sat on the edge, a campfire behind them to light their way. Wilbur handed him one of the rods, just expecting him to say anything. But there wasn't talking. Fundy threw his line, his attention laying on the catch. Wilbur watched a bit longer before doing the same, letting the waters soothe the ache. After so long, he could relax. They weren't talking, nor discussing the things that needed to be discussed but it was fine. This arrangement was fine. He wasn't owed anything, not even an explanation of anything. He had given that right away when he gave up on his son. 

Fundy's line was the first to be pulled, making them jump a little at the sudden action. He pulled, while Wilbur abandoned his own rod to watch. A medium cod was pulled from the water, unhooked then freed again. He smiled, proud of his first catch. When he looked up, he flustered to see Wilbur smiling. There was pride in him, that was something Wilbur always failed to hide. 

For as long as he remembered, Wilbur would never shy away from showing his emotions. Especially pride in those under him. Tommy, Tubbo, Jack, Niki and himself. Back then, before the betrayal, he could even see how Wilbur was proud of Eret. There was something wholesome in that. It could've been any insignificant achievement, or the bare minimum work, but Wilbur was always there to show how proud he was. At the top of his head, he had always been Wilbur's top pride. 

He hadn't felt like that in a long time.

In silence, they continued fishing and releasing their catch. Until he got bored of it. He packed the line, and laid the rod on the grass. He shifted back a little, closer to the warmth of the fire, hugging his knees and resting his head on them. He watched Wilbur go a few more times before joining his side. That's all he wanted, to go fishing with his father. In Wilbur's words, he was either too young to go fishing. And when he wasn't young anymore, Wilbur was gone with his nation. His beautiful symphony, one he grew to resent and love at the same time. How ironic. Great L'manburg, bringing heartache and protection in equal parts. 

"I never took you fishing, did I?" Wilbur spoke, looking at the orange from the fire mix with the blue of the water. Admirable, how chaos could paint a beautiful image with serenity. Life could be a canvas, and they could be the painters. Yet in his eyes, life was a sheet music awaiting the high notes, low notes and everything in between to create melodies so sweet to his ears. Even if they weren't always sweet. "I wasn't a good father… I made mistakes. Sang in the wrong notes and keys. And you had to suffer through that. If I would take it all back, I would love to sing and fish with you more often."

"Yuck."

Wilbur laughed. Some things never changed, and maybe that was a good thing. His son hadn't changed. That was good, better than any song sang or fish caught. 

Nature always had the best song to present. Not many could hear, and not many had the time to hear. And there was a huge chunk of his life he wasn't able to hear it. The birds and their chirps. The bees and their buzzing. Even the foxes' yaps and wolves' barks. The sound of the wind and the companion it offered. The playful breeze and the dancing leaves. Nature's symphony was beautifully orchestrated and balanced, something he hoped to achieve one day. Like a legacy, a song that they would sing when he was long gone. One time would hope that his symphony would be half as good as nature's. Now, he just wished to know where to pick up in the mess of the notes and keys. And if he could begin a new bar, he would do it with his son as his inspiration again. 

"I know you want to talk. Bet there's so much you want to say." Fundy spoke, a little after sorting out his own thoughts. He was aware that Wilbur wanted to talk, and he pretended that he didn't have anything to talk; even if the had the world and beyond to talk about. Unlike him, he wasn't one to be open about it. "But can you wait a little while longer? I just want to know what happened in those two years I was away."

"That's perfectly fine. There's no rush! I just want you to be happy, and comfortable. I can wait."

He was taken aback by the agreement, because it didn't reach his eyes. 

"Wilbur…" He bit the inside of his lip, looking away. He sighed, hanging his head low. "Please stop pretending. It makes me feel like you haven't changed at all."

"I'm sorry… It's just that I have so much I want to tell you."

"I know, I know. And I do too! But-" 

"But?" 

"I'm not ready…" 

Wilbur opened his mouth to reply, but closed it. He nodded, and seemed to think over something. Fundy didn't look up, just glad for the silence again. Just them, the fire burning the logs, the fish swimming and nature's music. That's all for the night. There was time, they could hold on for one more section. 

Somewhere in the trees, a pair of eyes watched with admiration and something else. His hand rested on the tree trunk, feeling the roughness and dryness of the bark. With the silence again, he took his leave, leaving no trace. 

"Didn't even notice us," a voice faked disappointment. He smiled, seeing the other rolls his eyes at his childish reaction. His leg hung off the branch, swinging gently. 

"He must not like us very much, it seems."

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because they can see eye-to-eye doesn't mean they get along. Just saying :]
> 
> I wonder who those three at end were. If anyone wants to guess, I could probably offer something to whoever guesses who they are (even if guesses 1 out of 3) :>


	18. Under the Influence of...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 3,857 «
> 
> Also, should I add Ranboo and Puffy? I've been thinking about that lately :/

After a quick shower and borrowing some clothes, he wondered if it was worth sleeping in the living room again. He decided against it, since everyone was there already. As he knocked down the nightstand to make room for another bed, H woke up rubbing his eyes. He sat on the bed, just waiting for him to say something stupid. The smirk appeared first, his own face going pale as he braced himself for it. 

“Is Master going to sleep with me?” 

“No. You leave.”

“But there’s nowhere else to sleep!”

The conversation was enough to wake the furry babies, making them jump to the bed. Fundy caught one of the foxes in his arms, while the other landed directly on H’s stomach. He laughed when he groaned at the pain. The cats also rested on the bed, preferring to sleep than being affectionate. They played with the foxes a little as the night grew older.

“Why do you live alone?” He asked, focusing mainly on petting the fox. He glanced at H, just laying and being licked by the playful fox. He chuckled. “Well, not entirely alone I suppose.”

H got up, leaning on his arm. “I don’t know. We aren't allowed to change, since the ‘houses’ are up already.” He unconsciously scratched the fox’s head, thinking of that time. “I had your pets with me, so I initially wanted to be alone because it would’ve been troublesome and full to be with other people. You can see how small the places are. They decided on this, I'm just following rules.”

“That’s messed up. And who's 'they'?”

H shrugged.

“Would you want to move in with Eret, Niki, Tubbo and me?”

“Just being with you is worth it!”

“Yuck. The offer has been rescinded.”

H laughed again, smirking. He shook his head, letting the fox run to its sibling. 

“Like I said, we are not allowed to change. You are the exception, for the time being I guess. Once you settle, you'll have to choose who you're staying with.” 

“Hm… Sleep.”

“Whatever master wants me to do in bed!”

“Oh shut up!”

H laughed one more time as Fundy laid down. They stared at each other in the dark, each mind wondering what the other looked like, or what they were thinking about. Fundy brought the blankets up, even when the night wasn't too cold. He thought of H and his pets again, imagining moments he would ask about later. With time, eventually he would get back the missed moments. And not only with them, but with everyone else too. 

Yes, that would be good. Word by word, he would build up memories. It was better than nothing at all. So for the time being, he could only see their changed faces as his own remained untouched by time. 

H reached over, caressing his cheek. He shivered but let himself enjoy the touch, holding his hand and taking in the warmth. It was okay now, he wasn't alone. One day he would be able to be forgiven and forget, move on past everything that went on. One day, things would return to how they were. Even if it means no more DSMP and L'manburg, and he didn't mind it at all. 

"Goodnight." 

"Goodnight," he mumbled softly. 

Before the early sun could rise, one of the foxes woke him up by licking his face. He woke up slowly, holding the tiny body so it wouldn’t fall like other times. When he sat up, he noticed an additional weight on the other side of his bed; heavier than all the pets combined. He looked over, seeing Fundy snuggled on his side while his bed was taken by the pets. A playful thought came to his head, wanting to tease him awake but held from doing so. The fox jumped away, joining the others as it wasn’t getting any attention. Fundy was so peaceful, curled up and looking so small. His tail wrapped like a blanket, like the two foxes used to do at nights. He chuckled softly, gently caressing his head.

_When everyone looked through his place, the pets hid from them. They didn’t go with anyone, the vanishing light in their eyes everytime they walked by hoping it was Fundy was too much to address. It was crushing, because they were expectant of his return too. The most they could do some days was leave them food, and on the rare occasion groom them. But that wouldn’t last too long before they would cry and run to their hide-out. Some days, they would look so skinny and unkept. Other days it was their imagination playing tricks on them, a cruel one. But their cries were real, like their own._

_He spent a little longer each time, sitting on the bottom step hanging his head. As time continued to drag them along, there was less strength to search any more. Every corner and inch of everywhere was empty of clues. And his place, which he took time to clean so dust wouldn’t gather, looked frozen in time. Any minute now, Fundy would stroll by to get some items from his unorganized chests. He would spring up, surprised but glad to see him. It could be any minute. But it never came._

_They didn’t want to accept it, they just wanted to be hopeful a little longer; that maybe that day it was the day. Like the furry pets, he wanted to see him again._

_As he was getting up to leave, one of the foxes came to his feet and rubbed his cheek on his leg. He had cried, just like everyone else had at some point. He kneeled. And for the first time, the fox was allowed to be picked up._

_After some time, slowly but steadily, he was able to bring them out of Fundy’s place and move them to Eret’s castle. To take better care of them, until Fundy was back. It was a surprise to them, a good one at least. Eret didn’t object, he was the one to offer his castle in the first place. Bit by bit, they warmed up to them. Indirectly, he had become their primary caretaker; and some nights he wondered if he was enough, if he could ever compare to him. For some time, he believed that as long as he had them, he could still have a connection to him._

“Hm,” Fundy made a soft sound as he was waking from the touch. His head reached for the most touch, his ears flickering eagerly. When he opened his sleepy eyes, he looked at his smiling face. His face went a soft shade of blush, waiting for either of them to speak up. And even if they didn’t say anything, the sun was rising and it was warm. A lovely, lazy morning.

“Morning.”

“Morning," he mumbled softly. 

After grabbing something to eat, and obviously with no intention to join the others for breakfast, he left H with his babies one more morning. He needed space to think, and H was understanding; even if he could tell that he didn’t want him to go just yet. Just a moment more could be enough, with the fear of it being the last again. He understood that too, but his head was too much of a mess to be around anyone. Friends he had betrayed, friends he hadn’t asked for forgiveness yet; friends that despite what he had done, still looked when he went missing. He didn’t deserve them, he never did. And that was something he wanted to think about, maybe even come to terms with it.

The lake was beautiful under the morning light too, but night time was always better; there was a special softness in being surrounded by darkness and lighted by just a lantern, a ‘alright’ kind of loneliness. The ashes from last night were still there, the wind leisurely erasing any trace of the campfire. He sat in the same spot, hugging his knees as he watched the water sway ever so slightly. His tail matched the movement without realizing. The birds chirped awake, while the branches stretched with the breeze. It was a kind of peace he hadn't had in a long time, one he hadn't enjoyed in a long time. 

"You're also here," Wilbur said after sitting down next to his son. "I thought that you'd be here too. It's a beautiful place, right? I told you it was a beautiful place."

Fundy stared at Wilbur, noting subtle changes in him. For starters, he could sense Wilbur had actually had some rest; even if it would take longer for those bags under his eyes to vanish. That was a bad habit of his, not sleeping enough or at all. Tommy and Niki were always chewing him out for it, and in the back of his mind he could hear them telling him to go to bed. He even remembered those moments of his own, sleepily holding onto his shirt and telling him to sing a song so he could sleep. That felt ancient, almost as if he was making it up, but it wasn't that way at all. If he asked him, he wondered if he'd remember any of that. 

He looked at the water again, letting the wind's gentle touch caress his face and rustle his hair. Like last night, they didn't say anything. He almost got his rod out, eager to fish again. Almost. There were a lot of 'almost' in his life, things that could've been but weren't. Sad. 

A couple of hours went by before he wanted to talk. And Wilbur was always ready to listen or answer. 

"Can you tell me what happened after you, Schlatt and Quackity returned?" 

"Did you get up to that?" 

"Yeah. I don't have anything else to do."

"Oh. Maybe we can find something to do later!" 

"Yeah, later."

_They hadn't been expected, not really since they didn't even know the return day was. He didn't blame them. Schlatt had walked off to lock himself away again, he didn't blame him. He couldn't really blame him, he wanted to lock himself in a room and never come out either. He glanced at Quackity, already welcomed by Karl and Sapnap who were walking by; what a coincidence. He smiled, before he was tackled by a smaller body. When he looked down, he saw Niki and hugged her. Behind her, as soon they heard, were Techno and Dream. They weren't wearing any good faces, and he gave them no mind to focus on Niki only._

_After being welcomed back, Dream called a meeting. They gathered on the roof of the communal area. Everyone was there to hear the news, and he was the one to deliver them with a broken voice. He couldn't look at anyone, and even looking down wasn't good. He looked up, keeping the tears from rushing out mercilessly. The lack of anything was hard to swallow, much less deliver. Their words of encouragement lost meaning a long time ago, he could feel them drift apart too._

_Then Dream stepped up when he was choking too much. He was serious, and everyone could tell._

_"This isn't the best time for this, and after much consideration, we have decided to put a halt on the Election War." He spoke, his voice booming with authority. That smiling mask of his conveyed nothing, a lifeless smile on a mask of a man that couldn't be predicted. "George had agreed to help Schlatt come to his senses, effectively-immediately tearing down his tyranny for once and all. If anyone wants to offer their help, they are welcomed to. That would be all for now. You are dismissed."_

_As everyone was leaving, Sapnap lingered next to George a little longer. Dream glanced at them. They were whispering things he couldn't hear, and in a way it made him angry._

_He could only wonder why that was._

_Before leaving with his friends, Dream stopped by._

_"Schlatt won't be very onboard with that plan, Dream," Wilbur pointed out with a curious gaze. "Not right now especially."_

_"It's for the best of everyone. He will understand."_

_"Sounds like a threat to me," Techno mocked without an ounce of fear in his stance._

_"We must do what we have to if we want what we want."_

_"Good luck, that's all I'm saying." Techno brushed him off, with a shrug._

_"It's been some time since we last discussed our own issues. Tonight seems like a good time to discuss them."_

_"You know where to find us."_

_Dream bit his words, keeping a leveled-face. He turned around, jumping off the roof without a care for the heart. George and Sapnap followed after, giving them a wave._

_"What was that? Butting heads with our Dream boy now?" Wilbur teased, giving him a playful shove. Techno shoved back, waving the concern off like nothing. He laughed, typical Techno and his untouchable demeanor. The thought flashed, if they were to ever clash, who would win? Whatever the outcome, he clearly had a side. "Catch me up with whatever happened in the two weeks I was gone?"_

_"Tommy was pestering me."_

_"Whatever that's new?"_

_"You said whatever happened."_

_Wilbur rolled his eyes, shoving him again before doing landing with a water bucket from the roof. He left the water, waiting for him to jump too. He picked the water up, telling him of the places he went to. A side of him wanting to keep himself from the inevitable breakdown, and Techno knew too._

_In the following month, Schlatt had agreed to step down from presidency and Quackity subsequently from vice-presidency. No one had the guts to ask how, but it wasn't questioned either. It was George who convinced him of stepping down, but Dream was the one to announce it; George hadn't been up there with him for it. Meaning that Wilbur was once again 'leader' of his beautiful, no longer Manburg, L'manburg. A good thing really, another thing he could do to keep his mind busy. And lately, his mind was too busy. In the rare moments of rest, he couldn't stop thinking. It was the price to pay to stop himself from thinking of his son. He hadn't given up yet, but was slowly accepting the fact that the probability of finding him was slim._

_Slim, but never none._

_They hadn't built another L'manburg, there was no real need for it. But they had abandoned, or at least stopped spending so much time in, Pogtopia. When he did go over to think, he couldn't brush away the memories. In the walls, in certain places, messages he had written in madness. He traced them, sparking a side of him that he didn't want up. Somehow, at the expense of his son and for his son, he was returning to who he was. Not a good father, but a sane one at least. On the rare occasions he felt himself slipping away, Techno was always there to help his mind hold onto something. He had learnt to leave Tommy out of it, he let him deal with his own issues._

_Time was uneventful, more weeks filled with nothing. His duty to his beautiful symphony was neglected, tossed aside more often than not. He had planned some new buildings for L'manburg, scrapping them all out when the thought of not having Fundy taunted again. Nothing he could do for his nation. He couldn't do anything for too, the lingering of his face becoming a threat. He had really tried, but he couldn't._

_Lately, he had been having one too many reunions with Techno and Dream. Most of them discussing unimportant matters, like borders and other kinds of divisions. However, on the most recent ones, Dream had been hinting and pushing a certain narrative. When he recapped, he understood why the three of them had flocked together behind everyone's back. He wanted his nation blown up so no one could have it. Techno wanted to take down the government. And Dream, well Dream had always been secretive, he could only assume that the masked man wanted chaos since they had been having his support. And when he stopped to think about it, there really wasn't any more reason to have these talks. He had let go of his obsession with L'manburg, while also having it back. Schlatt and all forms of governments were taken down. So that left Dream's ambiguous wants; those were never concrete._

_He couldn't care less, even if he should have._

_Much to everyone's disagreement, he decided to take a week for himself. He wasn't going anywhere they didn't know, he was just going to stay over at Pogtopia for some time. Let himself think and sort through the mess in his mind. He made them promise to stay out, in exchange of his promise to not do anything idiotic. Niki hugged a little longer, while Techno offered a good supply of potatoes. Tommy was still going on about how they should go together, Tubbo was wishing him a good time, and Jack was the sane one of them._

_Even Eret had come to see him off, not really being part of it. They walked halfway there together, in silence of course. The traitor and the traitor. After everything, he labeled himself as one too. It was only fair. He didn't judge him anymore at least, yet still resented him for it. He would never forgive him, and they had both grown to accept that. Now they could see eye to eye, even if it wasn't often._

_It was kinda funny, how even though when he looked at Eret behind those shades, it was more honest than Dream was. Maybe because Dream hid the majority of his face while Eret only hid his eyes. The eyes were the most expressive, followed by the eyebrows perhaps, and they were windows to the soul. Something was always off, things just were like that._

_When they parted ways, they allowed for a short hug._

_"I never did congratulate you. Back where you belong, leader of L'manburg. Rightfully yours."_

_"Count the days before it's threatened again."_

_"Oh, I am. Don't worry."_

_Wilbur frowned, which just made him laugh._

_"The crown doesn't look too bad on you, I hate to admit."_

_"Fundy tried taking it and my throne."_

_Wilbur's eyes widened at the mention. All this time he'd been thinking of his son, forgetting Fundy was more than just that. He unknowingly turned a blind eye to the way Fundy's disappearance affected the others. When he was alone, he would think about it. There was a list of things to sort out, one more thing on the list wouldn't affect anything. He looked up to see Eret look away, catching a glimpse of something._

_"And I support his doing so," he boasted with pride. He offered a smile, sharing a side of Fundy they both knew. Eret smiled too. "But I see he hadn't succeeded yet."_

_"I could adopt him and let him legally have it."_

_"I would never allow that to happen, the adoption of course."_

_Eret laughed._

_"See you in a week, Wilbur."_

_"See you in a week."_

_Eret turned on his heels, heading back to the DSMP as he made his way to Pogtopia. He glanced back, out of curiosity mainly, to see the distance grow. For a week, he wouldn't see anyone and Eret would be the last person he'd see until then. It was okay, he could come to terms with that. But a silent cry kept his body from moving too fast, giving time to run back if need be. Although he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to turn and go. It was easier to be with everyone else, much easier than dealing with it all alone. But the sun was still high and the smell of smoke was intoxicating._

_Pogtopia looked abandoned as he remembered, mobs having spawn too. He cleared it out, placing torches to illuminate the place to avoid more mobs. The messages he had carved were still there, aging poorly, his fingertips picking up the dust from each letter. He held the torch closer, bringing the words alive as fire devoured them. The button and control room were written a thousand times, a direct time machine to the past. He wondered, now that he was 'stable' again, how the others felt about the carvings. Especially those with clear blood stains. This was Pogtopia, the place they ran to when they were exiled by Schlatt, a place they learnt to call home. A safe house. Sanctuary, even. It was also the place that harvested his madness too. How ironic._

_When he looked up, the unsafe stairs leading to the top, he wondered what they would think if he returned right away. If they would think he was weak. If they would judge or would they understand that he simply couldn't? It was so easy, climb up and return to them. He had nothing to prove, or that's what he wanted to believe. His eyes admired and considered the exit a second longer, then returned to the bottom._

_His makeshift study was also kept intact. The air was dusty when he opened the door, like the room hadn't seen light in ages. His hand stayed at the door, his own body joining the frozen image. In the corner of his eyes he could see himself roam the room, talking to himself, and overall losing his mind. He saw himself sitting down or walking in circles equal to a trapped animal, like there wasn't a door at all. Looking away didn't help, because in every corner his hollowed face was staring right back. Even echoes of his words and maniacal laugh bounced on the walls._

_It all vanished when he stepped in, breaking the stillness of the moment. His hand slid across the stone walls, feeling words but uncaring to make sense of them. After so long, he was sure he knew what they were anyways. He circled the room, bringing some life to it. Then leaned on the wall, sliding down it, facing the door with defiance. The familiar view mirrored the image he saw just a couple of seconds ago. At the end of the day, and after everything, he never moved past that stage._

_From his bag, he fished out a sealed bottle. He was never a drinker, that was Schlatt's trait. The taste of alcohol wasn't his favorite, but he wouldn't mind it when they raised a glass for revolution or when others needed to unwind. His person wasn't a drinker, just the occasional glass and that was it. Lately he had been tempted to drink, so drown his sorrow somehow. It wasn't a good habit, he knew; and he knew Schlatt too. And he would never be forgiven by the others if they ever found out he tried to drink his senses away. Maybe, just maybe, that's why he wanted to get away. To drink._

_Maybe._

_Just maybe._

_He knew he shouldn't have let Eret get too far._

••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm going to push platonic H and Fundy narrative because yes. No argue. Thank you.
> 
> Viva le platonic relationships :>
> 
> Also, Wilby + Alcohol is going to be a mess :]


	19. Mess it up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not summary but:
> 
> Please educate yourself on recent and ongoing issues regarding racism! I know it's not what you're here for, but please. Sign petitions if you can and spread awareness!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 3,120 «
> 
> It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt
> 
> And that someone is going to be me (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

_For three days straight he had been out of his mind. Days and nights blended in together, while hours passed in mere blinks. Shame ran through his body alongside the liquor, which still tasted awful as he'd remembered. There was nothing good, nothing soothing about it. A couple of bottles were hurled against the stone walls, coloring them with the poison as shattered glass rained down. He'd watch the drops leisurely dry before ever reaching the bottom. Then he'd do it again. And again. So much for getting away to sort out his thoughts, he couldn't do it._

_Once he finally convinced himself that there was enough alcohol in his system, to make Schlatt proud, he crafted signs. In each he wrote a thought, a feeling and a desire. Soon, the room was filled with signs, the walls showcasing and the floor crowded. He had even ripped pages from books, filled them with writing and stuck them to the signs. Yes, it all made sense in his head. The words were scribbles, almost unreadable, in most. The phrases lacked any kind of sense. And the order was a disaster. Yet when he stepped back to admire his work, the smile blooming in his face was the most sincere smile he had given ever since everything went wrong._

_He was so proud, so very proud of it. Because it made sense, it all was in front of his eyes. It made sense. Yes. It did._

_But the tears weren't matching his smile._

_The longer he stared, the less it made sense. Words blended with his thoughts, so effortlessly like days and night under alcohol. His mind and eyes couldn't concentrate anywhere, overwhelming his senses. But everywhere he looked was decorated with his madness, the words he hadn't had the guts to say, and the words he never should've said. It all began spinning, he was losing himself again._

_In the eye of the hurricane there's quiet._

_For just a moment._

_He collapsed again, his knees hitting the floor as the signs cracked away. Splinters settled around his body, hugging his clothes too. The words erased, replaced by taunting of his own conscience. How cruel could one's own mind be?_

_L'manburg. Unfinished symphony. Fundy. Schlatt. Tommy. Button. Blow it up. Techno. Dream._

_"Never should have left you alone."_

_Wilbur turned around, seeing only the silhouette darkened by the lights outside. The mask was shadowed, and it was all he needed to deduce who it was. That man needed no introduction._

_But he had the urge to show him the door out._

_"I said no one was to see me," he spoke slowly, hiding his inebriated state. He got up, avoiding the wobbling. His leg pressed against a broken sign, the splinters pressing through his pants in return. Even with his height, he felt so small compared to him. Sensation only alcohol withdrawal could give._

_"Figured you'd want some company here." He said, tilting his head mockingly. He didn't even bother going to him, choosing to lean on the door frame watching a man crumble again. "You went psycho with just Tommy. Can't imagine what stage of madness you would reach alone."_

_"Still wouldn't be any of your business."_

_"I can make it my business, if I so desire."_

_Wilbur frowned, making fists by his side. Without hesitation he pointed his sword, making him straightened up._

_"I wouldn't, if I were you," he spoke with a calm tone._

_Wilbur lowered his sword, putting it away but never out of reach. Techno had taught him that, even if he never went for physical harm in confrontation. He was never one to strike first, but one to strike in retaliation._

_"Let's talk. You seem in the perfect state of mind to do that."_

Wilbur stopped talking, seeing Fundy bewildered. He opened his mouth to continue, but ultimately unable to shake the feeling of uneasiness. Not a single part of him, even under the influence, was proud of what he had done before; much less what he did after. 

"You know," he said looking at the blue sky, "I never told anyone about the signs. You are the first to know." He admitted, in hopes to distract him a little.

"Why's that? Apart from the fact that it must have been a psychotic mental image." Fundy narrowed his eyes, wanting to see him react; even if it was negatively. But there was no reaction, none that he could point out at least. His eyes continued looking at him, ignoring the bright blue sky. Truly a perfect day to do anything but what they were doing. 

"I don't know," he replied honestly, "I guess I didn't want to worry them again."

"You are right. I am worried about you, Wilbur." Fundy said in a teasing tone, trying to lighten up the mood. Wilbur smiled, so it was something. "But if it makes you feel better, I don't think any of us is doing any better. I mean, have you seen, uh, who can I make fun of without offending? Uh, Bad? Nevermind. Forget that. I had a point. Anyways."

Wilbur laughed, turning to see him blushing in embarrassment. In the back of his memory, he could still make out the tiny silhouette of a tiny fox boy running around and laughing. So curious about everything, and always so eager to learn about everything. He could see him crying with a scraped knee, after having fallen in his face. Or that time he had to chase a tiny fox biting his hat for hours. All those memories and many more stored in his heart protected under lock and key. Now, his son was all grown-up. Almost an adult, ready to take the world with his own hands. 

"You always have that stupid smile when you think of the past." Fundy made a notable disgusted face, recoiling back a little. Unlike Wilbur, he couldn't really put any nostalgia in his kid-self. All his life he wanted to grow up, stand by him to lead their nation to greatness. Now they would never have that, and that was fine. 

"You were always so adorable as a kid, my little champion!" He cooed. 

"Whatever!" He blushed, frowning again. He complained silently to the sky, wishing the ground would swallow his body for good this time; skipping the going missing for a long time of course. "Anyways! I'm hungry."

"Oh, yeah. It's almost lunch now." Wilbur looked at the sky a final time, judging the time; even if he wasn't very good at that. Techno was the good one when it came to solo survival; getting it from hardcore Philza clearly. "We can head back to join the others or, hm, I have some potatoes. I stole them from Techno but don't tell him, not like he's going to realize but still! Or we can go back, you know, have lunch with the others. I think it's Niki's turn in the kitchen, but some other people. You always liked her cooking, right? I remember you liking her cooking. Or was it baking?"

An uncontrollable laugh, an honest one, stopped his rambling; which he didn't even realize. He looked up to see his son laughing, so naturally. His son, the lazy lake and peaceful atmosphere. Past-Wilbur would have given anything for this. His L'manburg, his beloved nation, was nothing if he could sit down to hear his son laugh one more time. He stared in disbelief, wishing his past-self strength because things would eventually work out. One day, he will be sitting with his son one more time. Past-wilbur would've never believed it, their relationship was unfixable or that's what he believed for the longest time. But that day was proof that it could happen. All it took was for him to disappear for two years only. 

By the time he stopped laughing, reassuring himself that Wilbur hadn't changed and would never change, he could admire him with the smile that said everything was going to work out. Yes, Wilbur would never change. Even under all that madness, it was still Wilbur. That was reassuring to know, to finally accept. 

"So? Are you going to feed me or do I have to find another dad to do that?" He teased with a childish smile. 

"Again, I am not letting Eret adopt you. Over my dead body."

Fundy giggled.

"He doesn't have a castle anymore, so that's kinda inconvenient."

"He's not king anymore." 

"Oh?" 

"Wait, you didn't know? He's not even wearing his crown anymore?" 

"I thought it was because he didn't want to show off?" 

"There's no L'manburg and no DSMP, therefore no government nor royalty."

"I… will ask him later… If I remember." Typical Fundy, brushing things under the carpet. "Anyways. Food. Now."

He watched his son, eagerly eating the baked potatoes as his ears and tail were flickering unconsciously. How easy it is to forget the problems of the world when there was food in the middle, if only it were that easy in his life. He chuckled, making him look up with curiosity, getting the heads-up to continue on.

_He wasn’t listening to his words, brushing them aside as he rolled his eyes. He got up, brushing the dust and splinters off his clothes. The other was glad, and he could tell by the body language. He pushed past him, shoving him a little, as he left his study unsupervised. Nothing will make sense to anyone anyways, his senseless rambling was cryptic enough._

_“Well, follow me. I’m sure there’s a better place to discuss, somewhere around.” He smirked, gesturing vaguely. His back to him, uncaring for the place anymore. If it were to be blown up, he wouldn’t miss it; since he never really loved the place. Something about living in the shadows wasn’t appealing. It just wasn’t his cup of tea. “I’m sure you know this place, no need to deny it. You weren't very subtle about your inspection.”_

_“I try my best.” He gave a little shrug, watching his back with a grin. “I have improved, haven’t I?”_

_“Oh, I’m sure you have.”_

_They walked, Wilbur surveying where they could sit down and talk. At some point, he was the only one moving. No place was convincing, and all places weren’t as private as he’d want; even if he was sure they were the only ones there. He glanced up, the ravine closed as always. Finally, he made his way back to his unwanted companion and claimed the stairs as the place._

_“I would offer a cup of tea,” he said with a tiny edge of mockery, “but even I know a cup of dust isn’t very appetizing. Unless you do like that, then I won’t judge entirely.”_

_“I guess I will have to skip the offer.” He gave a smile, not an honest one in truth. “I wouldn’t object to another kind of drink.”_

_“Oh, a drinker? Would’ve never expected.”_

_Wilbur stood up, going back to his study where he left his bag. He grabbed it, making his way back to him. He rummaged, fishing some cheap beer he should’ve drank before the wine. In three days, he hadn’t really finished his supply, surprisingly. Then again, alcohol and madness couldn’t really be told apart. He took a sip of his own can, watching him take a gulp too._

_“So? What do you want to talk about? Or am I not intoxicated enough to satisfy your sadistic desires?”_

_“I only wanted to talk.”_

_“Very well. Cheers!”_

_A few cans gave them a wave of courage, pushing a side they hadn’t been able to showcase._

_“The TNT is still under L’manburg, in case you’ve forgotten.” He placed the can on the ground, stomping on it cleanly. His mostly innocent demeanor went away. Something about the strength in his actions triggered his true reason to be there. “What do you plan to do with it? I’ve been very patient with you.”_

_“Fundy is gone and Schlatt stepped down from presidency,” he blurted out with some anger. A frown was quick to form as he looked down at him, their expressions a perfect mirror of each other. Both showing true anger. “I am in charge again. And I am not blowing my nation up, literally and metaphorically. It’s all they, Tommy, Tubbo, Niki and Jack, have left. And… it’s the only thing that connects them to Fundy. Let them have this.”_

_“We had an agreement,” he stated coldly, stepping off the bottom of the stairs. He put distance in between them, his head still tilted up to see him; standing tall and imposing, that hypocrite._

_The insignificant gush of air brushed their hairs and faces shyly, hiding away far from reach. Wilbur’s bangs swayed slightly, and he pushed them off with delicacy to see him. That, unmovable and intimidating, man was something, really. He kept an inexpressive stance, weakly imitating that cold clay mask. His uneasiness for that white mask, with a smile lacking emotion, was always justified. No matter what he did, he would never have the upper hand against someone who hid their emotions all the time. He was but a mere being with the curse of feeling, and he hadn’t really been in a good strike. If only he wasn’t ankled to his feelings, L’manburg would’ve been long gone with Schlatt._

_Yet that alternative reality would never bring his son back._

_“As their leader, you should know that those who fail to move on are destined to sink. Erase what’s splitting us up, and let us come together.” He spoke, his monotone advice matching his mask. Wilbur didn’t budge, and his frown hid behind his mask. His hand raised, his fingertips feeling the scratches before he pulled it down. His eyes met his, his naked face revealing in front of him. “L’manburg was a mistake. I should’ve never pushed you away. The Disc War should’ve never happened. Our differences and ability to live together despite those differences are our true strength.”_

_Wilbur’s hands found their own in his pockets, feeling the flint-and-steel cold against his touch. True strength was showing vulnerability and accepting their wrongs. And of them two, only one had done that. He clenched the item in his hand. He waited for him to finish, no point in interrupting his monologue and confession. A hypocrite, but so was he._

_“I understand now, where your reasoning lies, your nation will forever come first in your mind.” He continued, not breaking eye contact. His own hands were fists, impotence flowing through. “As the leader of the Dream SMP, I am here to ask you to consider my words, and for you to understand where I am coming from. I want the best for my friends, the people I care about. And I know you want that too for your friends. I am putting my friends first, so I’m asking you to do the same.”_

_“What is your plan exactly?”_

_“Alongside the TNT under L’manburg, there’s also TNT under the Dream SMP. It’s all connected to the button. But there are strategically placed TNTs that we can manually light up.”_

_“You want to blow it all up?”_

_“Start from zero. From scratch. No difference. No nations. No sides. Just friends surviving this world together._

_“Together…”_

“You… I can’t believe you." Fundy butted in. 

“It was for the better.”

“Couldn't you just do an agreement to dismantle everything? Was it really necessary?!” Fundy frowned, getting up quickly. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and he had tried to stay neutral with everyone, but that spilled it all. He was angry. The day he came back, he was welcomed by a destroyed DSMP and L’manburg. Everything he ever loved or cared about, gone and torn to pieces. Now they were living in that ugly camp, lacking any sense of what they had before. He hated it. And he hated the reason too. “Did you really have to blow it all up?!”

“We didn’t.” Wilbur kept his cool, his heart tearing. He could still see it all play out so perfectly clear. It took some time to understand. It took longer for the others to understand too. Fundy would eventually understand. It was for the better, it really was. 

“Then who did?!”

“If you could calm down and let me finish-”

“Wilbur, there are a thousand of people I can ask.” He spit mockingly, making him drop his calm expression. He rolled his eyes, throwing his arms in the air. “Think about it, Wilbur. Do I really want to hear that my own father blew up the place I called home? Do I really want to hear that from you? Think about it."

“Your hands are as dirty as mine, son.”

Fundy stopped walking in circles, his tail even dropped. He had his back to Wilbur, but he nodded.

“Kinda sad that’s the only thing I ever got from you,” he said with fake pity. He turned on his heels, seeing him get up too. "What does that say about you as a father, Wilbur?" 

His cheek hurt, a sharp pain struck quickly. His hands instinctively reached up, feeling his skin go hot. His head dropped while a smile curved on his lips. He chuckled while the world froze. 

"You are not a good father."

"You are not a good son."

"Fair." He nodded, his hand falling to his side as his face went hotter. He stared at the ground hard, trying desperately to keep the tears in. It had been long since he heard Wilbur say he was proud. It had been long since Wilbur had been a good father. He always believed they would never reach the point of no return, never once realized they've been dancing on it. Hanging hardly on the line, waiting for the wrong move to threaten the fall. But he had been falling long before, maybe it was time he accepted it. "I should have stayed with Schlatt."

"Fundy-" Wilbur called out, taking a step forward with anger. That name, he didn't want to hear it. Not from him, not in that context. 

"Ever wondered why I don't call you dad anymore?" 

Fundy said finally, looking up without caring to show that he wasn't strong enough to keep the tears in. He didn't care, he had cried one too many times for worse reasons. And he swore this would be the last time he ever cried for the father he lost, because the man in front was but a stranger. 

"Because I don't have a dad."

Before he could get a reply, he walked away wiping his tears with his palms. It was frustrating. So frustrating. 

Was it wrong to just want a dad? 

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, support BLM.
> 
> "But we'll never be truly free. Until those in bondage have the same rights as you and me."


	20. Call it a day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 8,865 «
> 
> Last update of the year, man. 
> 
> My new year's resolution is to update more frequently

After the fight, where trues were revealed, he didn't have any more energy left to do anything. At first he wanted to go to H's place, snuggle in bed with his pets and do nothing. Or even just hug H and cry, make his head believe there's someone who cares. But when he saw the side of the house, he couldn't bring himself to go through. He made a sharp turn, losing his path one more time. Ever since he came back, he hadn't really done anything to mend the bridges rupturing under all the weight. Truth be told, he deserved it for pushing everything aside in preference of temporary normalcy. And he should've mended the bridges, long ago. But not with Wilbur. Never with Wilbur. That was a bridge he never wanted to see, one he never wanted to even meet in the middle. 

He continued walking with no destination in mind. Going to the DSMP again was an option, a third time could do his head some good. At least he'd embracing his cowardly side, at least he could pretend to actually reflect on all that's been going on. Tempting, but he was too much of a coward to go there. Too many memories he didn't want were there, and they were haunting regardless. 

After walking aimlessly around H's place, seeing another two houses and the shared house of Eret, Niki and Tubbo, he couldn't pinpoint his uneasiness. At the end, he returned to the lake, this time sitting far from the place before. He made sure, again and again, that this time he was alone; that he wouldn't be joined again, even if he couldn't control that entirely. The waters were calm, nothing like the storm making a mess of his thoughts. A frustrated sigh escaped. His fist hit the ground, sending a shock through his arm. It was so frustrating. Annoying. And he hated it. 

He hated Wilbur. 

He really did. 

Colorful words were thrown to the wind, no message in particular that he wanted to send. Screaming to the nothingness, with no one to reply was good. With the forests in the middle, he was sure he wasn't heard too much. Not like he cared anymore. He should've been past the point of caring with Wilbur, yet there he was; once again putting a hold on his life for him. The world could burn down for all he cared, as long as it meant not having to see him ever again. A part of his head was nagging; he should've gone somewhere else and just… 

"This is stupid," he muttered to himself. He hit the ground again, this time lightly, barely pressing his fist against the grass. He was right, there were a thousand, well not a thousand but a handful of, people he could've asked. It didn't need to be Wilbur, it didn't need to be his renounced father to announce who blew the place up. It didn't have to be. It could've been anyone, maybe it would've hurt less. 

"Maybe," he mumbled. 

"You look troubled."

Fundy turned his head, seeing Punz a couple of blocks away. He didn't want to humor him, he wasn't one to do that anyways; on occasions perhaps. He frowned, unfriendly welcoming the company. 

"Wow, calm down. I didn't know you were here." He said, raising his hands to the air as he stopped walking to him. "I just wanted to see the lake and chill."

Punz walked straight to the lake, rather than diagonally to Fundy as first intended. He placed a boat, glancing at him for approval or something. He didn't need approval but somehow it felt like it did. Whatever took him to that state sure did a great job, intentionally or not. Fundy looked away, and he let out a breath he didn't know was being held. He jumped on his boat, grabbing the paddles to row far from where he was currently. A thought stopped his actions. He turned, placing his crafting table on land to craft something. 

"Want to join?" 

Punz asked, making his head turn to his direction. He saw him place another boat made of the same oak wood next to his, leaving the crafting table there. It was a nice gesture, but he wasn't in the mood to row. His head was halfway through shaking, before realizing he didn't have to talk to him exactly. If conversation was initiated, he could simply not answer. And he didn't remember much interactions with him, as they were on opposite sides anyways, so the past wasn't an entirely viable option either. He thought it over a second longer, finally deciding to join him. 

He hopped on the boat, making it rock gently. He glanced at him, turning around as they headed away from the shore. Out of curiosity, he glanced back a couple of times seeing how far they were going. Maybe a bad time to remember he had a lingering fear of the deep ocean. As long as he stayed on the boat it was fine, he repeated to himself. He kept on rowing, catching up to him quickly. 

Punz stopped, hooking his paddles to the side of the boat as he laid back to enjoy the remaining sunlight. 

Fundy did the same, looking over him a little bit more. From his inventory, he grabbed the fishing rod. He didn't want it, and he was tempted to throw it away. But it had a use, other than fishing. He hooked it to Punz's boat, so they were connected in case of anything. As he laid the rod inside the boat, Punz got up to see what the matter was. When he looked up to see him, he saw an understanding smile. He nodded, not saying anything at all. They laid down on their respective boats, enjoying the gentle rocking and letting their bodies relax in the not so comfortable boats. It was better than anything else. It gave his mind a chance to organize itself, even if he didn't want to sort through the catastrophe of thoughts. He grabbed the book and quill from his inventory, staring at the blank pages as the thoughts fought to be the first to be written down. As long as the sun above them gave light, the pages could be filled. 

Then again, even if he didn't fill them, he was on a boat gently rocked by the water with Punz. He didn't have to sort it out just yet, he could enjoy the moment a little longer. Let his head slow down for a bit. Breathe without holding it. Just, slow down for a moment. The damage had been done, and he wasn't in the best mood to solve it. So he scribbled a short sentence, then put it away. He curled up, transforming into a fox to rest. If Punz asked, he could always explain. Later. Yes, he could always explain anything later. 

As the sun continued to set down, Wilbur saw the orange lights beginning to paint everything in its reach. He rushed out of his house, going to the camp where he was sure to find who he looked for. A few hours had passed since he fought with Fundy, yet he wasn't able to process anything at all. His room was suffocating, and the air outside was even heavier. He couldn't believe what he had done. And he couldn't begin to imagine how they would react. 

It was mistake after mistake. 

But this time, his mistakes involved the wrong truths to deliver. 

"Techno!" Wilbur called out, grabbing the attention of everyone that was nearby. He glanced around, just realizing his barging into the kitchen. His brother appeared, an apron tied around his waist, instantly judging the terrible timing. "I forgot you are on kitchen duty… Forget it. I'll be back later! Later… Yes, later!" 

"Sounds like it's urgent." Techno gave him a questioning look, wiping his wet hands in the apron. "Wilbur, you've also put me in the spot right now. Do you need to talk?" 

"No… No- No! Not at all. I'm sorry for barging in! It's not important. At all…"

"Phil is with Tommy, somewhere. Do you want me to look for him?" 

"No need! I've interrupted enough…" Wilbur forced a smile, trying to focus solely on his brother, ignoring the worried glances from the others. He had seen them time and time again, almost haunted by those looks. Coming was a mistake, but he had nowhere else to go to; no one else to go to. If he had gone to Phil, he couldn't bear to see that disappointed look in him; not again. "I'll leave! Don't worry!" 

"I can replace you for today," Ant purred with a subtle gleaming grin. His tail was the only movement in the room, easily catching the attention away from those two. A subtle favor, another to redeem later. "Hand over the apron! And go run off before Dream boy comes to start dinner preparation."

Wilbur looked surprised, bowing with gratitude. Techno undid the apron, handing it over, before pulling his sleeves down. He mouthed a quick 'thank you', quickly pulling Wilbur to the back door where they slid away from view. As the door was closing behind them, the usual talking resumed like the interruption never occurred. He glanced at his older brother, seeing that it was much deeper than he had thought. Then they headed off before anyone else could see them. As they power-walked, he silently thanked Ant again. Maybe it wasn't so bad to be connected after all, it came in handy a handful of times. When Ant had mentioned they needed to talk, he knew it too but chose to continue to not do so. Certainly he owe it to him by now. He made a mental note of it, before returning his attention to Wilbur. 

"As much as I'd like to go home, you need to talk now." Techno stopped then, somewhere in the patch of forest that was in between the camp and Wilbur's house. Not an entirely safe place to talk, but he just couldn't postpone it any longer. "What did you do now? I thought everything was going alright?" 

"And we were! Really! But…" he gestured randomly, trying to make sense of it as he spoke, "I thought we were doing fine. I messed up. I really did it this time."

"What did you do?" 

"Well, for starters I told him about the plans to blow the place up…" Before Techno could say everything that was wrong with that, he continued with a little too much hurry. Something about being judged never sat right. "But he doesn't know who pressed the button! He's under the impression that I did it, and by how everything went I might as well have pressed it."

He let out a frustrated sigh, looking away from his brother. Truly, it wasn't the worst thing to happen; but he knew it wasn't finished. 

"We fought… He guilted me. I reminded him he wasn't as innocent either." He paused, just to see him pinching his brow. Still, not the worst thing yet. At least it was only him, and not Phil. He took reassurance in the little things, more specifically in that fact that it could've been worse. Right? Things can always be worse; or so he hoped. "He called me a bad father… And I called him a bad son… He… He renounced me again."

Unbelievable. 

"How did that even happen?" 

Punz got out of his boat, stranded back in shore. He could see the outline of Fundy's boat on the horizon, lazily rocking in place. His eyes narrowed, trying to make an outline or something. A torch aid in his search, desperately trying to make sense of their separation. The rod's hook was still attached, but the string snapped. Weird, since he was sure he did not feel it snap at all. He sat on the grass, eyes locked on the other boat. Was Fundy awake? Was Fundy aware that they had been separated? Was it his doing? Too many questions and not enough answers. All he could do was wait, in case of anything. 

Yet no matter how many minutes passed, there was something wrong about it all. He got you, ready to step foot in the boat again to get to him. A hand on his shoulder stopped his action, his body flinching around to see Dream standing there. That mask seemed to glare under the shadows. 

"Wait a little more," he commanded. He let him go, his hand falling to his side as he looked at the horizon. The boat, seemingly getting further the longer he stared. He didn't even pay attention to Punz's confused gaze, giving him no answer. The scenery was framed in stillness, waiting for anything that would corrupt its perfect state. His hand reached up, pulling his mask to reveal his face to the moon. "It's-" 

"What's going on here?" Karl interrupted Dream's words, driving their eyes to his presence. 

"Punz, bring help." Dream ordered, keeping his attention on Karl. 

Punz hesitated, turning his attention from Dream to Karl then back to Dream. His eyes widened when Dream put his mask back on, adjusting and tightening it in place. The final glance was given to Fundy, or Fundy's boat; he wasn't entirely sure anymore. He excused himself, power-walking away from there. Silently he wished Karl wouldn't say anything wrong, not like he was exactly a good judge of good or bad. 

He rushed past Wilbur's place into the patch of forest before the camp, catching his steps when he heard voices. He ducked behind a tree, quieting his moves instantly. The night became silent once again, no rustling from his part, soon the words returned. With the distance, he could barely make out the words spoken, but he knew who it was. 

"You don't understand, do you!" Wilbur yelled, throwing away his need to be secretive. Desperation dripping with every action. "I tried so hard! Did I not? I did everything for him! My nation, my L'manburg, my unfinished symphony! It was all for him! He… He's ungrateful! So ungrateful!" 

"Are you even listening to yourself, Wilbur? You don't sound like a man, much less a father willing to-" 

"To die for his son?" He interrupted with a grin, nodding his head. Techno frowned. "You would know about that, wouldn't you? Yeah, I think you would know about that. Wouldn't you?!" 

Techno swallowed his words, glaring at his hypocritical brother. His hand itched with lust for his axe. But he didn't, not yet. His hand formed a fist, knuckles white as he stretched his hand after. Truly, he still believed his brother had an ounce of sense in him, at least enough to not engage in a physical altercation. A verbal one, well that was another thing. He relaxed his face and back muscles, thinking his words through. What did Wilbur want to hear? And what was the exact opposite of that? The line seemed to blur too often for comfort. Still. 

"What? Am I lying" 

"There you go again, Wilbur. Talking without thinking. Do you ever listen?" 

Wilbur's eyes widened, a shiver running through his body as an ice cold water bucket landed on his head. It soaked his clothes, staining the grass under them with shards of ice. He blinked, the ice slowly staining with a crimson so pure and beautiful. A smile spread on his face, now seeing waves of crimson crush and dance in the blades of grass. The chaos was simply mesmerizing. When he looked up, to ask him if they were seeing the same waves, he saw him covered in that same crimson. His netherite axe blood-bound. That brother of his, an insatiable god for blood. His smile widened for him, welcoming the sight like any other normal day. 

Wilbur spoke gentle words, telling an incoherent narrative. He approached him slowly, his arms wide open to welcome him into an embrace. 

He could see something in his eyes, this wasn't the Wilbur he knew. He swallowed his words, looking behind Wilbur’s shoulders. An unusual gold reflected the moonlight. Before he could warn of the additional company, he caught a glimpse of a blade coming down in a silent swift. His eyes closed in instinct, his body forgetting about self-defence.

The sword bounced against wood, giving a new cut on the front. 

“That’s unreasonable,” the voice purred before pushing Wilbur to put space in between them. “And unnecessary.”

“Ant,” Wilbur mumbled as he lowered his sword. Behind them, he could see the others on kitchen duty joining. He put his sword away, composing himself before looking back at his brother. Something about the way Techno and Ant whispered things he couldn’t hear made his blood boil, his smile straightening into an inexpressive glare. “The whole group’s here. To what do I owe the visit?”

“Dream hasn’t shown up,” Niki answered. “We were looking for him. Have you seen him?”

“I know where he is!” Punz joined them, walking into the light of the new torches. A shiver ran through his body at Techno’s glance, both knowing he had been caught. He didn't reveal that, having forgotten the initial issue in place of listening to the gossip. The realization hit, and panic settled. “Fundy’s stranded in the lake!”

“The one connected to the ocean?” Niki asked quickly, stepping closer to him. He nodded. 

“Dream told me to go look for help, and I-” he paused, his head processing the spoken words, “Please go to the lake! I will look for the others and get some things.”

“Techno and I will go look for the others, you go with them.” Ant interrupted, putting his shield away. He gave Wilbur a glance, watching him look away. Interesting. 

As Punz guided them back to shore, his head couldn’t help but to question if Wilbur had noticed his eavesdropping. If Wilbur did, it wasn’t mentioned. Not like they didn’t have other issues in their plates. He saw the torches’ fire making the shadows dance in the grass. By Dream’s side, there was Tommy and Karl. Phil was towering up, his elytras shining with the moon’s light. As the others rushed to them with their questions, he turned to the horizon. The boat was still untouched, peacefully awaiting disruption. 

“The paddles from Punz’s boat are gone,” Dream explained as the others filled the night with their questions.

“He hooked our boats together,” Punz joined as his attention snapped back into the discussion, “with a rod, but the string snapped. There wasn’t a storm or anything like that, so I don’t know how that happened.”

Wilbur made his way to the boat stranded in shore, seeing the snapped string and hook. Carefully he unattached it, examining it near a torch. It was the rod he had crafted, the one they had used to fish just a night ago. He looked across the lake, seeing the still boat. He turned to the others, joining back into the conversation. There was no need to know about the rod, just how it came to snap.

“We have tried placing boats, but they aren’t placing.” Karl pointed out, raising more questions than answers. As much as his own mind was trying to make sense of the situation, he was in the same boat as them; and their boat was stranded in confusion with no sign to be moving anywhere anytime soon. “And when we tried to place the boats on land, they don’t have paddles. It’s broken. The boats are broken.”

“Phil is going to check on him, since we don’t know if he’s even there.” Dream explained, glancing up to the top of the tower. “Fundy could’ve left the boat for all we know.”

“He couldn’t have,” Eret replied instantly. He gasped for air from running, alongside him was H, Sam, George and Sapnap. “He’s scared of the ocean! He can’t have left without the boat.”

Those words struck something in Wilbur as panic couldn’t be suppressed longer. He lifted Punz, ready to demand an explanation. Yet when his mouth opened, another voice spoke before his.

“Phil is going!”

Tubbo pointed up, making everyone follow Phil’s trajectory to the boat. It was gracious, and there was beauty in it. Yet they couldn’t exactly point that out under those circumstances. Two fireworks were required to reach him. In silence they watched him circle the boat, descending slowly closer to it. Another two fireworks were used for his return. The colors blooming against the dark sky were dull.

By the time Phil landed, the rest of the members joined. As everyone was updated on the matter, Phil shook his head with a sad expression. 

“He’s curled up as a fox. He didn’t even look up.”

“A fox?”

“Shapeshifter,” Eret replied. “He’s scared. We need to get him back.”

“How? The boats are broken. We can’t even build towards the water. And even if we swim there, he won’t set foot on water.” Wilbur spoke with a bitter tone, an ironic smile plastered in his face. Eret frowned to his words, not caring for the glare in return. “How are we supposed to get him back?!”

“I’m just saying!” Eret snapped back, taking steps towards him. “Anyways, why are you even mad with me? You completely forgot your own son is terrified of being in the ocean.”

“Then it would be sensible if he didn’t get close to the ocean!”

“But he did! So what now?!” Eret gestured in the direction of the boat, demanding an explanation from him. “Your son-”

“He is not my son.” Wilbur spoke coldly, glaring at the other. He ignored the gasps and focused solely on the man in front, it became second nature to do so. He watched him take his shades off, seeing the raw feelings in his silver eyes. Like the moon, they were cold and honest. "You wanted him? You can have him now," he hissed, making sure that they wouldn't hear. It was a message only for him, a reminder even. 

"Is this really time for that?" Phil cut in, putting himself in between those two to prevent them from getting closer. He frowned at Wilbur, making him look away. Eret walked away to Niki, seamlessly resuming the discussion with the others. He drowned their talk for a moment, turning to his son with a worried yet stern look. "We'll talk later."

"Can't you OP for just a moment? It's for a good reason and it'll only be a few minutes." Tubbo suggested, his voice louder than the awkwardness. Some agreed, while Dream seemed to think it over. Ultimately shaking his head. "Why? It's just for a moment."

"What if the chunk is glitched? I can't risk endangering him, even if it's for just some minutes." Dream spoke, making them sigh in resignation. "There's a chance he is also temporarily glitched. Seems like the whole lake is, just wrong. We can wait it out or find another way. By the looks of it, he will have to swim, even if he's terrified."

"Can you at least try?" Eret asked, ignoring the risks. There was desperation in his plea, matching the desperate glances and subtle moves. They had lost him once, and they weren't ready to lose him again so soon. "Please? We have to try it. We can deal with the consequences when they arrive."

"It's a high risk. I looked over the server, and the lake is certainly glitched. Corrupted even. Even if Dream reaches him, there's a chance he won't even be able to interact with him. We can try to spawn boats or build towards him, that's all we can attempt. Even that involves some risks." Sam walked over to them, followed by Bad. His hand crumpled his veil, his knuckles white. "We can wait it out and see how it turns out. It could fix itself eventually."

"Eventually is too uncertain," Eret replied. 

"The code is the code. We can't do anything about it."

Eret rubbed his face, shaking his head. Like him, the worse was beginning to creep towards their thoughts. 

"We will wait it out for a bit, see if the server updates or anything." Dream spoke, looking over at the horizon. "In the meantime, some of us should go rest up. It will be a long night."

Much to Dream's words, no one was willing to go. They were fixated on the boat in the horizon, in the corrupted water chunks. A couple of fire camps were made, to keep them warm as they settled together. The words fell short again, with nothing to share. Phil went to check on Fundy again, telling him that everyone was waiting for him. They weren't going anywhere, they were there. Waiting. Like last time, just wanting him to come back. 

Dream lingered back, near Sam and Bad -and Skeppy, who refused to leave Bad's side- as they kept a close eye on the server's status. But that wasn't his only intention. From there, he could see everyone. Like any other day, he took time to update himself on their relations. His attention went directly towards Wilbur and Tommy, sitting furthest from the others. Yet in the same fireplace, Phil and Techno shared warmth. In the middle sat Callahan, Alyssa, Punz, Ponk and Purpled. George was mainly with them, Sapnap leaning on his back as he shared a campfire with Quackity and Karl. Near them, Eret, Niki, Tubbo and H. He couldn't help but notice the glances Tommy and Tubbo were giving each other, wanting to sit together yet unable to. That happened to everyone, the shine in their eyes wasn't so obvious anymore. The excitement of seeing their friends, the glance that sparked joy was never the same. A shame, truly. 

As he counted heads, he noticed a missing one. Going over the list again, he figured Ant wasn't in sight. He let Sleepy know he was going to secure the place before stepping into the line of trees. 

Sapnap pushed down on George's back, leaning on him as his eyes admired the night sky. 

"He left," he murmured. 

"I noticed." George replied, his hands playing with his goggles. 

"Should we follow?" 

"Won't be necessary."

George pushed back gently, making him complain softly. He shook his head, following Eret's trajectory to Phil. 

"Hey, Phil, do you think I can go check up on Fundy?" Eret asked, his voice barely louder than the gentle fire glazing the sticks. He avoided looking at Wilbur, knowing that if he didn't trouble would ensure. 

"Sure," Phil agreed. He got up, leading him to the stone tower with added stairs now. Like him, he didn't look at Wilbur for affirmation. He did, however, glance his way to see him look away. No matter what Wilbur said, his body just never quite matched his words nor intentions. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last time. They climbed up, seeing the others become smaller with the height. At the top, in the makeshift platform, he handed him the elytras and some rockets. Before he let him go, he stopped him for a short chat, taking advantage of their newfound privacy. "Don't take Wilbur's words to heart. I would say he doesn't mean it, but everyone's heard that a thousand times already, I won't bore you with that."

"How do you feel about him saying Fundy's not his son? Just curious."

"I don't know him yet. But I'm sure it was said in the heat of the moment." He assumed, looking down at his sons. They had grown and changed so much, for the better or worse; it didn't matter. 

"I suppose that is an option." He shrugged. "Any tips on the elytras? Heard you are quite the expert in them."

He chuckled. 

"What? We didn't have dinner yet." Tubbo looked down at the grass. 

"I have bread," Niki said softly, making him look up with a spark in his eyes. She chucked, handing him the loaf. 

Tubbo took the bread instantly, getting up to rush to Tommy's side to share. They watched him with smiles. 

"You think they can ever get back to before?" He asked innocently, putting his weight on her as he hugged her to keep warmth. It was refreshing to see Tubbo being himself, like a glimpse of the peace while their worlds were hung by mere threads. He couldn't quite pinpoint, but he missed the most innocent moments of life; those that he got to share with the people around. Maybe one day they would all share a single campfire to enjoy each other's company, rather than because they needed to discuss matters that shouldn't exist. 

"As long as they are trying," she replied, her eyes following Eret flying away to the boat. He shifted his head, she assumed he was looking at him too. They wanted a turn, and they had discussed it too. At the end, they choose to not overwhelm Fundy. A saddened smile curved as her head leaned back on him. "Maybe we should try harder too."

_“You can’t live in a state of ‘maybes’,” Schlatt grinned with a tilted head. “It’s time to accept it. He’s gone.”_

_Dream glanced at Wilbur, waiting for a response._

_“Ten months,” Wilbur hummed to himself, smiling at the dirty cobblestone floor under them. His hand ran through his bangs, letting them fall to cover his eyes. “It’s been ten months. Where did all this time go? Just last week I was fighting Dream in for my nation. Did time just fly by?” He looked up, with a genuine smile. Schlatt flinched, his body moving back._

_“You look older, so do I. Can’t say much about Dream though.” He continued, poking a little fun of his ally. The room was small, becoming smaller by the second. Suffocating. A trap. He let out a short chuckle, tilting his head to him. “You are right though, ‘maybe’ it’s not enough. And I know you are a man of business, so we are here to extend a deal to you.”_

_“We will officially dismantle everything,” Dream explained, with more urgency in his voice than Wilbur’s. Although he had his mask on, it had become second nature to frown under it; and others began to pick on that detail. Don’t let them know too much, he stuck by that. “We offer a peace deal. You leave, to never return, and we will put it all aside. We will put it all behind us, as long as you leave and never interact with any of us. Should sound easy.”_

_Schlatt laughed bitterly, crossing his arms in his chest. Although he didn’t have it in his system, that sense of fake bravery and confidence was prominent. So, not as easy of a deal like they had expected._

_“I don’t get much out of this, doesn’t sound fair. Why even offer the option? Manburg is yours again.” He said the last part to Wilbur, addressing him rather than Dream for no particular reason. His vexation and nuisances were with Wilbur after all. “Offer me something that is worthwhile.”_

_“It’s your life that’s on the line,” Dream butted in, annoyance tainted in his words. He took a step to him, his hand itching to get his axe. How easy to bring an end to it all. How easy it was. Yet Wilbur pulled his shoulder back. “You walk away alive, or we can find another resolution that is more satisfactory to your taste.”_

_“We are offering immunity.”_

_Wilbur pulled Dream back, returning to their stance and side. How ironic, and disgusting. An agreement set on words wasn’t strong, much less on paper. How easy to burn paper, a spark that can easily bring a whole forest down. A fire that can burn it all down to get to the paper. So he wondered, what were they doing to keep it safe? When he looked into Wilbur’s eyes, he saw a metallic coldness melting with a fierce, uncontrolled fire. Honesty. He hated that. He also hated the way Wilbur pointed at his right arm, where his injury used to be._

_What a low blow._

_“Fair,” he accepted with a defeated sigh._

_‘Wait!’, Fundy wanted to call out as his arm stretched to reach them. His words hung mind-air, deafened by the sound of TNT blowing up outside. That small room became exposed to the outside, dust and dirt clouding his vision. Instinctively he covered himself, his body pushed down to the floor by the explosions. His ears rang as the walls crumbled to pieces._

_Minutes later, commotion made his ears flinch. He looked up, barely making out the silhouettes of a fight like a shadow show. The ringing in his ears was louder than his own words, the dust and dirt too heavy too see anything at all. In mere seconds he was left alone in the destroyed room, the other three bodies leaving in front of his eyes. He got up quickly, his body still shaking from the explosion. He rushed out, looking desperately for them._

_Fire embraced his body as the heat forced sweat beads down his forehead. A curtain of smoke blinded his vision, his lungs loaded in it too. For a mere moment the flames made his skin tingle, his body frozen in place as his eyes took in the view. The world as he knew it was alive in flames, raging and screaming in an inferno so hot it brought the Nether to the Overworld. That was it, the images he had seen so vividly. Like a sunset, everything was colored orange yet it lacked the sense of tranquility. He blended in just fine, even if he felt alien in his own skin._

_He could see the fire rain down. His ears flinched at the sound of steps and coughing, his eyes looking around to see silhouettes running in the ashes in desperation for clean air. He breathed in the hot air, tasting the ashes in his mouth. To think that the world as he knew it was once friendly and petty, now slowly succumbed to its own greed and desperation. They never learn. And the bridges with the people he once called friends were crumbling as he watched them run away to safety. In the middle of the chaos, for just a moment, there's peace under a yellow sky. If they could stop and look, maybe things wouldn't be as bad. But he knew they couldn't stop, his body unreactive to the fire like theirs. He admired the footsteps printed on the ground with ashy ink in a dried canvas. They all headed the same way, following each other like always._

_His body began to ache like last time, his hands shaking as the breeze sharpened with the heat. His lungs filled with the past. It was a vision, a piece of the past he never got to see. Now, he was trembling with a memory that was not his own. Yet the pain he could share with the others like he had never left._

_Those were the ashes that coated the DSMP and L'manburg._

_He headed in the general direction of the others, ignoring the raging fire devouring all in its path. In a clearing, far from the fire he caught the ends of screams and cries. Everyone was reunited, too many thoughts thrown in the air. Dream was holding Schlatt while Wilbur stood behind patiently. He reached for him, his hand passing through Wilbur's arm. Wilbur looked back, directly through. He pulled his arm back, waiting for him to say something. They stared for a few seconds before Wilbur looked away._

_Of course he couldn't be seen._

_“Look at me,” his voice broke as his eyes began to sting. “I’m an idiot,” he muttered to himself._

_He looked up, turning to see the mess. He began to see the world that he had returned to, the fire eager as always as the buildings roasted in patience. It was a matter of time until the fire died out, allowing nature to take over to fully finish the image. He looked up, taking a deep breath. His attention was drawn back to them as talking began to flow._

_“What a deal,” Schlatt spoke with an ironic smile. He didn’t even try to free himself, too unbothered to create a scene in front of everyone. They looked a mess, of course surviving an explosion was fun._

_“So, is this it?” George stepped forward. “What about the rest of Manburg? Or Schlatt2020?”_

_“An agreement has been settled,” Dream spoke in response._

_“Is that so?”_

_“It’s fine,” Schlatt intervened with indifference. He made a face as Dream tightened his grip. “It’s over. Would be boring to drag it out even further, wouldn’t it?”_

_George was going to say something else, but backed down; choosing instead to walk away._

‘It would, huh,’ he thought, snapping back to reality. The sky was still dark with the stars and moon decorating. He raised his head, sniffing the subtle trail of smoke caught around. It was almost imprinted in his life now. He was still in the boat, the sudden heat cooling down immediately with the night and its breeze. 

He curled up tighter, wrapping his tail even closer. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been stuck there for, not anymore at least. A selfish side wanted Punz to have been the one stuck there, or anyone that wasn't terrified the way he was.

‘Dad, help me,’ he cried silently.

“Hey buddy,” a soft female voice.

He looked up again, seeing outlines that he never met.

“Oh! Can you give us some lights?” The female voice asked her companion, a little cheerier. 

After a torch was brought up, he could see three beings he didn’t know. The female voice aligned with a female, wearing a captain pirate suit. What stood out the most was her sheep ears semi-hidden in her fluffy hair. Behind her, a guy clinging to her. He couldn’t make out his face behind the face mask, but he did notice his two colored hair and small horns. 

“What’s a fox doing in here?” 

Another voice asked, making his head turn towards that direction. Another guy wearing, in what appeared to be, a blue onesie. His attention shifted between the two boats, wondering who they were. As they kept wondering why a fox was in a boat in the middle of the ocean, the single boat approached.

“Hello,” the guy greeted with a smile. He put the paddles aside for a bit, stretching a hand to pat his head. When Fundy pulled away, he tilted his head a little disappointed. “My name is Connor. I won’t hurt you.”

He cringed internally. 

“Come one buddy, we’ll take you back to shore.” The girl encouraged, rowing a little closer too.

He hesitated; they were strangers, yet they were also possibly his only option to return to shore. The thought of turning back into a human was out of the list, not wanting to explain at all. He could do that once they were at shore, or even get someone to explain it. Getting back to shore was his priority.

Before he could make his decision, Connor picked him up. He struggled little, scared to fall into the water. He was set on the back of the boat, but he settled himself in his lap. Closeness to someone, that’s all he needed. They began moving not long after.

Eret shook his head when he turned to see the others. The boats still spawned without the paddles, and they couldn’t build either. A defeated sigh escaped. It had been a couple of hours now, most were becoming alarmingly tired. His head snapped around back to the lake as Tubbo pointed up the approaching boats. 

“It’s Puffy, Ranboo and Connor!” He announced, his words loud enough to give energy to those who were close to falling asleep. Everyone stood up, flagging the two boats down. They called out loud, waving their arms and torches in the air. “Don’t get out of your boats!” He yelled when they were close enough.

“Why is everyone here?” Puffy asked.

“We have the fox!” Ranboo pointed out as everyone was repeating to not get out of the boats. “It's with Connor.”

Connor rowed to shore, followed by the other boat. Eret rushed to the boat, picking the fox and carrying it inland. The fox turned back into human as everyone sighed with relief.

“Oh,” Puffy said simply. “Anyone care to explain?”

“Long story,” Niki replied with a gentle smile. Her eyes held Puffy's eyes for a moment before being drawn back to Eret and Fundy. Her heart broke for him. "It's been a busy day it seems."

"I'll take your word for it."

The night was unexpectedly silent, with no mobs roaming as they should have. While Fundy calmed down, that was the only time they had to think about the lack of mobs, the thought followed closely to remnants of their past. Two years where everyone's changed, for the better or the worst, no one was the judge of it. To think that after two years, it was still the same sky above their heads. The same bright moon and its little playful stars. The same gush of breeze sending shivers, making the fire in the campfire and torches dance. The same grass and dirt under their feet. Funny how life moved on before their eyes, with or without them. No matter how much they wanted to ignore the thought, it was always in the back of their minds nagging and pushing for a little bit of normalcy. Because what they had, it wasn't like the untouched nature cycling around them. No, they weren't the same. It had been a long time since they had shared the tiniest bit of similarity to their past. 

"Whatever happens from now on," Sam spoke as he got up, "let's hope for a better time together."

"I second that," George agreed with a grin. 

Sapnap looked at him, sharing a knowing glance. He smiled too, sincerely. 

"Let's do that."

As agreements and sincere sentiments were shared around, George caught a glance from Bad. George shrugged. The exchange was barely longer than a relieved sigh, but some eyes noted the interaction. He would indulge later, if he remembered. There was so much to stick his nose in, and with everything going on, things were a blur. 

"We should go to bed now, it's late." Phil pointed out, quickly shutting the chatter. The fires were put out as torches began to illuminate their surroundings. Most left after some more words, promises of continuing their talks later. He hadn't seen that side of them, not as genuine as least. For once, he saw the gleam in their eyes at the thought of seeing each other when the sun was up. It was no lie that he hadn't arrived at a good moment, nor was it a lie that the atmosphere was never quite right, like there were missing pieces. "They are happy, huh?" 

"I suppose," Techno agreed with a shrug. He could tell there were a million thoughts running through Phil's mind, there were as many running though his own mind. But for once, he let himself not think of that. Maybe it was the familiarity of everyone getting along, maybe it was the fact that the lingering weight of stress was easing. Maybe there were too many options. He looked over at Wilbur, still seated facing the water with an impatient Tommy wanting to go back home because it was cold. A chuckle escaped. 

"Something happened."

Techno sighed, the answer was more than clear. 

"Well, one of you has to suck it up and talk, whereas wrong or right."

He looked at his dad, pouting at the words. He didn't want to be the one to 'suck it up', especially when he wasn't the one in the wrong. But he didn't have it to argue with him, not really. 

"While you talk, I will check on my grandson," he said with a playful tone, special emphasis on the last word. He gave a little wave before heading to Fundy, leaving him to deal with things. 

As he got closer, the charter was louder and lively. It sounded natural, unlike the majority of the interactions he'd seen in the time he had joined everyone. The conversation subdued when he got closer, their attention on his approaching. His own attention fell on Fundy, noticing the red eyes reflecting the soft orange glow from the torches. 

"How are you feeling?" He asked, sitting down in front of him as they made space. 

"I'm okay… Right now I'm okay…" 

"I'm glad," he replied with a grin. "I see that you can also shapeshift. That makes it five people who can shapeshift."

"Did my da- Did Wilbur tell you?" 

"Yeah. You get it from Sally, that's what he says."

"Mum," he muttered softly to himself. "He talked about her?" 

"Not much. Just a detail here and there."

Fundy's eyes lit up. 

"Can you tell me?" he asked instantly, not noticing the slightly pity glances from the others. Wilbur didn't talk about her, not that he could remember at least. All he knew of her was from random anecdotes Wilbur told when he was little. Funny how after so long, his curiosity for her never truly went away. Ironic how he never saw how messed up that was. "Can you tell me about her? Please?" 

"Who we talking about, people?" Tommy plopped next to Phil, his voice energetic as usual. 

"We are talking about Fundy's dead salmon mother," Tubbo replied with a straight face, making Tommy narrow his eyes at the delivery. They shared a look, then glanced away to return to the conversation. 

"That's one way to put it," Eret laughed it off, no one really bothered with the phrasing. 

"We can talk about that later," Phil replied, shaking his head. He turned to see Techno and Wilbur, sitting side by side facing the lake. "I won't ask what happened, just know that there are people you can trust. It doesn't necessarily have to be Wilbur, or me, or anyone in particular. Just know that, eventually, the answers you seek will come from him." 

"Don't worry about that," Fundy said in a soft voice. He looked over at them, drawing their silhouettes against the lake with his eyes. Their bodies, fundamentally different, didn't look too different from each other. One who was great with words, who had a presence that was unmatched. The other was imposing physically, with a presence that terrified. Yet, against the lake they were the same. He wasn't one to assume, but like everyone else, they were troubled and haunted by mistakes. He was too. "I'm good at stalling."

As the breeze brushed their faces, he shifted closer so their shoulders were touching. A little exchange of warmth, instead of the words that needed to be said. Apologize, his mind repeated. 

"Do you see the boat at all?" Techno spoke first, throwing Wilbur off by the chosen topic. He glanced at him before returning to his search for the boat in the distance. Wilbur did too, he noticed in the corner of his eyes. He was sure, not long ago were they staring at the boat. It had been in their rendered chunks. 

"No, I don't see the boat." Wilbur answered, not needing too much time to notice the lack of boat on the horizon. "I don't see it," he paused to think his words, "but is that what we should be discussing?" 

"I just wanted to point it out."

"I'm sorry, I'm a terrible brother." He said quickly, making him turn so they were facing each other. He looked down, ashamed. It was always like that, for as long as he could remember. The time he was first to apologize or reach out were few and far in between. Even with Fundy. "I almost hurt you. If it hadn't been for Ant… I would never forgive myself for having hurt you…" 

"I can always respawn."

"It's the principle!" 

"I know, I'm just saying so you don't feel too guilty. You walk and act as if you were carrying the weight of the world in your shoulders, like Atlas; though that's more in the literal sense of holding the world in his shoulders."

"You're the expert. Does he have a good story?" 

"Up to interpretation."

Wilbur laughed, shaking his head. He looked at the empty lake a final time before getting up, shaking dust and dirt from his pants. Techno followed after, before they headed to the others. His gaze avoided Fundy's, even if he caught him wanting to see each other. Phil, once again, pointed that it was late and that they should go to rest soon. Tommy was more than happy to hear that, while Techno and Phil were rather indifferent about resting; even if he could tell they were tired to some extent. His family was complicated. 

Wilbur and Tommy were the first to go their ways, then Phil and Techno said their goodbyes too. Eret carried a sleepy Tubbo, while H dealt with a sleepy Niki and Fundy. They were drained of energy, as if the universe simply refused to give them a break. Eret's, Niki's and Tubbo's house was their destination. Eret tucked Tubbo in bed before joining them again in the living room, where Niki was almost falling asleep on the couch. Fundy looked the same. H was the only one who had a reserve of energy, but was running out too. 

"We should get going," Fundy mumbled before yawning. He rubbed his face, trying to keep awake, not noticing the disappointed look in Eret and Niki. 

"You are not staying over?" Niki asked. 

"H is lonely," he teased with an innocent grin. 

"I'm not!" 

Fundy chuckled. 

They got up, heading for the door. Niki hugged Fundy, a little tighter than usual. They whispered something, just little promises to talk later as usual. Then Fundy hugged Eret, the feeling of safety he found in him was familiar and new at the same time. He didn't have enough energy to think about that, nor draw parallels or conclusions. He was tired, too tired to too think of that. 

"Rest well," Eret mumbled before letting go.

"Adopt me already," Fundy whispered, joking. It made Eret raise a confused look, softening as he shrugged. 

Eret pat his head, shaking his head. 

"We'll worry about that another time."

H dragged Fundy the rest of the way back, because even after what happened, Fundy was Fundy, and the fox-hybrid took joy in inconveniencing people. He let him settle in bed first, as he checked on the pets. They were thrilled to have them back, and he was glad to see them too. Once he made sure they hadn't made a mess, and checked if they had eaten the food he left them, he headed to bed. Fundy was already snuggled under the sheet, resting away. 

"That's my side of the bed," he joked as he changed his clothes. Looser clothes suddenly became super comfortable, and his bed looked like paradise. 

"It's not," he mumbled. 

"I can literally see you over the line." He rolled his eyes, getting on the bed after turning the lanterns off. Surprisingly, the pets stayed in their designated place, some already sleeping. He pushed him over a little playfully, not really wanting him to go away. "You are on my side."

"And there was only one bed!" Fundy said a little cheerier, with a childish grin. 

Much to his fake annoyance, he let him be. At least he could hold that over his head once they were rested and their minds were normal. Sleepy Fundy was good Fundy. Especially when he could tease him about it in the morning. 

"Night," he mumbled.

"Night."

Fundy snuggled closer, ignoring his bed completely. He didn't mind. They were too tired to care. 

Moonlight sipped through the windows. He pulled the blinds to cover them, letting the room drown in darkness. His head hit his pillow softly, almost slipping into slumber. 

"Is Dream not back yet?" George asked, watching Sapnap settle on the bed next to his. 

"No, I don't think he'll be coming back anytime soon."

"Too bad," he closed his eyes, "he's been too busy lately. Bussing other people too. How troublesome."

Sapnap agreed, not adding much. 

"We got a busy day ahead of us," he spoke as he stared at the ceiling. In the dark, their memories kept floating up to greet his nostalgic self. He couldn't keep doing that, not when there was something to deal with. "Lots of talking too."

George agreed, snuggling into his pillow. Minutes went by in silence, yet neither fell asleep. He opened his eyes, making the outline of his friend in the dark. 

"We will figure something out," George said softly. 

"If we don't?" 

"May the odds be in our favour."

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many plots were opened in these 20 chapters, let's hope I can keep up and give them a proper storyline :]
> 
> Happy belated Christmas! And happy new years! :D


	21. Let's begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> » Word count: 1,250 «

“You’ve been busy,” Dream hummed, gently tracing the outlines of the dusty chests. He hadn’t intended to return, not with all the baggage that came with just being there. Yet there he was, creating more scenarios than there were stages.

“So have you, I’m assuming?” He replied with a genuine smile, offering a mere glance before returning to his doings. As he rummaged through the messy chests, filled with unneeded items and the rare, possibly, useful items -under very specific scenarios that is-, he couldn’t help but wonder to what did he owe the visit. There were other things to worry about, he was sure, there always were. “It’s a shame this place was left to gather dust. Especially because it carries with it so many memories and it evokes so many emotions. Don’t you think so?”

Dream thoughts of those words over and over, stalling the answer he already knew. Though, it never hurt to go over his thoughts once in a while. With the moon peeking through the caved-in roof, and watchful lines of trees beyond the water as witnesses of their interactions, he let himself wander off in his mind. He could still George, Sapnap, Callahan and Alyssa roaming around, talking about whatever. Their laughs so pure and their smiles matching their eyes. That was sincere happiness. This communal area was once home, it was once all they had; all they needed, because at the end of the day as long as they had each other they had it all. But that was back before the wooden floor was replaced by crafting tables and the doors replaced by fence-doors. Before the roof had caved-in and before all the glass rested in clutters of shards on the worn out crafting tables. It was a long time ago.

“Things are the way they are for a reason,” Dream replied, gesturing around and beyond with his sight. “We control our decisions and suffer the consequences, whereas good or bad. But we cannot control the decisions made in retaliation to our own.”

“Poetic,” he said with a grin. “Then I’ll make the decision to leave first.”

He offered another smile as he stepped around the fallen pieces of the roof, his graceful walk lifting barely any dust. Almost like no one had been there at all. Except of course, there was someone who knew he had been there. As he reached the closest exit, he gave another glance to see him looking around with a nostalgic feel. Not like he could see in his face anyways. That inexpressive mask would be the end of someone one day, he could certainly bet on that. With no other words to exchange, nor interaction to farm, he took his leave without looking back. Being followed was the least of his worries.

“Unreasonable and unnecessary,” he purred to himself as he became one with the shadows and the night.

Sam’s head slid off his hand, driving him off his stasis state. He shook his head, rubbing his face in tiredness. It had been a couple of hours running tests on the server, trying to figure out what was that glitch or how it came to be. He got up, stretching his sore legs. He turned to his right, seeing Bad still going through the tests. He closed his own tabs, dimming the white empty place they were in. He made his way to him, looking over his shoulder to see if anything came up.

“Are you tired?” Bad asked, looking away from his tabs and noticing Sam’s ones were closed. 

“Yeah.” He sighed, massaging the back of his neck. “I got nothing on my end. Server’s stable and nothing seems to be out of place. I think I will hop off and get some rest.”

“Hm, yeah, then I will too. I will leave some tests running in the background but there shouldn’t be anything wrong. Maybe the server did update and fixed itself.”

They said their goodbyes before dimming the place in a soft pastel green and hopping back to reality. 

Sam got up from his seat, stretching his sore body before looking out the window to see it was still night time. He glanced at the clock, just a couple of more hours before sunrise. Which meant he should be making the most of it, since they would have to report their nonexistent findings back to Dream. They should make some more physical tests at the lake, maybe closeness to it was the key they were missing.

Knocks on the door threw him off his thought train, bringing it to a halt. He made his way to the door, opening without a second thought. There, to his surprise, was Dream.

“Am I disturbing?” Dream asked, tilting his head at the shocked expression.

Sam shook his head. “No, not really. Bad and I just finished the main tests, and there’s nothing wrong; nothing that we didn’t see at least.”

“May I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, come in.”

Dream closed the door behind him, glancing at their surroundings just in case. He followed Sam into the living room, where a lantern was turned on for light. He paid no attention to the decoration, not like he ever cared for those details. He sat across from him.

“I won’t bore you with details, so I will go straight to the point. Remember that thing we talked about?” He spoke, instantly ringing a bell. He pulled something from his inventory, opening the neatly folded piece of paper in the table between them. He let him see the contents before continuing. “I want some of those aspects added there for extra security. Do you think you can make it work?”

“It’s a smaller and tighter space.” Sam looked at the design over, a rookie design but understandable. That’s all he needed, really. “It might disrupt the view,” he said jokingly.

“That’s not an issue,” Dream joked in return. His lighthearted tone dissipated. “Can you make it work?”

“It might not be as neat as you want it to be, or small as estimated. But I don’t see why it won’t work.” 

“Again, not an issue for me.”

“As soon as Bad and I figure out what happened at the lake, I can start with this. Though it does mean I won’t be working on the other thing until I finish this new project.”

“I sound like a broken disc,” he joked. “It’s not an issue.”

Sam chuckled.

“I will be letting you rest now, then.”

As Dream made his way back to his own house, he couldn’t help but pay extra attention to his surroundings. Not so much looking behind his shoulders, but the feeling of being watched was always present. And it was most notorious at night. That feeling has always been present, ever since he could remember. Yet he never grew accustomed to it. He blamed it on the paranoia.

He looked back as he stopped his steps on the path, his silence mimicking the night. Almost like no one had been there at all. Only Sam knew he had been there to return home. A few blocks away from camp, he allowed another glance for ease of mind. He frowned under his mask, certain his feeling was beyond paranoia. With no sound, nor movement to follow, he continued his path without looking back. Being followed was top of his priorities.

He muttered some choice words before exiting the shadows and exposing himself to the night.

•••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I'm getting discouraged :l
> 
> I want to write everything again lol


	22. » Not a chapter «

Hello!

Quick run down of what is/will happen:

1\. This story will be discontinued (is that the right word?), or perhaps go into indefinite hiatus. It won't be deleted, for my own sake. I will write the 'new' version separate from this. 

2\. The story will be broken down and built back up again, which will take time, therefore things will change. I do hope to be more consistent with the storyline, which will also be modified.

3\. Because it's an alternative universe, it evolves into a different narrative from the 'main' lore. But little things will be referenced, hopefully. 

4\. I'm moving into a new city in a bit, so there's something to keep my mind busy. 

Lastly, thank you to those who stuck around and read. I'm very grateful I was given a chance to entertain. Hopefully, when I do come back, I will be able to offer something better and consiced. In the meantime, have a great 2021!


End file.
